Things Unsaid
by Zapheil
Summary: Arthur thought Alfred would never care about him again, ever since that day long ago. But now that he's cast a spell and he meets a new Alfred in a new world, will things be better with a chance to start again? Starts off canon then switches to Gakuen AU.
1. The Beginning

It was late. By all means, Arthur should have been asleep already. But there was one thought that kept tumbling around in his head, coming back to the surface again and again no matter how much he tried to scrunch it down.

Darn that Alfred.

Arthur rolled over on his bed so he was facing the ceiling. He wiped his bangs off his forehead, ran his fingers back though his short blond hair as he let out an exasperated sigh. Honestly, what had gotten into that boy since that day so long ago? Over two hundred years had passed and the boy still didn't seem to be any brighter than when he was a newborn. In fact, Arthur had so much preferred Alfred when he had still been so young, when he would follow Arthur around like his shadow, when Arthur had been the most important thing in his life…

Arthur let out another sigh. He had been bringing up these bad memories more and more lately, even though all he wanted to do was rip them out of his mind, throw them in a chest, lock it, and throw the chest into the depths of the sea. Ah the sea. Maybe that could help calm his racing mind.

He threw off the covers and sat up, turning on the light and blinking at the sudden brightness. Then he got up and went to open his window. _Ah, the cool sea air at night. If only I could be back on the sea again, going wherever I wished, doing whatever I pleased…_ Maybe then Alfred would finally stop tormenting his mind. The bad thing about being the personification of a country was, you had a long memory. And those memories did not like to fade with time. No, instead they stayed as vivid as if they had just happened the day before, as if Alfred had only just now launched his attack on Arthur…

No. No. He wasn't going to think about these things anymore. The Revolution was over and done with. Lingering on old memories wouldn't, couldn't change the past. But try as he might, he couldn't hold back the force of the memories that yearned to be played over in his mind. Sighing for the third time in under five minutes, Arthur leaned against the windowsill, laying his head on his arms that were spread on the edge. It was no use after all, huh? He slowly closed his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his arm. And he braced himself, waiting for the emotions to overpower him like they always did, even after so much time. But strangely, this time, unlike all the times before, it was not an old memory that he visited in his mind's eye, but a much more recent one. Why, in fact, this had only happened a few days ago, why would this come up now…

* * *

"Iggy!"

Arthur turned around and sighed as he saw Alfred tearing down the hallway towards him. What did that git want now?

"Alfred, I told you to stop calling me that infernal nickname."

The man in question pouted. "Aw, c'mon, don't be like that! You know you like it!"

"I have never once been pleased by you using such a stupid name for me."

"Whatever. Say, aren't you coming back to the meeting? Ludwig says we need you back for the next discussion!"

Arthur leaned against the wall. "It depends, in all honesty. Is that stupid git Francis still acting crazy?"

"What are you talking about? He's acting like normal."

"That is exactly my point."

"C'mon, Iggy!" Alfred pulled on the older man's arm. "Stop acting so stubborn and come back to the meeting! I need you to be there while I give my speech!"

"Stop it, you git." Arthur yanked his arm out of the man's grip and glared at him. "I just needed a breather from that madness in there; I will be back in just a few minutes. What do you care if I'm there, anyways?"

"Because I'm totally the hero, so everyone has to listen to me!"

"Alfred, nobody is going to agree with that stupid plan to replace police officers with gun-wielding robots."

"But it's an awesome plan! It could totally work!"

Arthur shook his head. "Honestly, I cannot believe that I raised you, with you acting like this all the time. What on earth happened to all that culture that I gave you?"

"Psh, Iggy, you were a total buzz kill back then! And your culture sucks."

"Stop bloody calling me that!" Arthur snapped. "And besides, what would you know culture? You obviously didn't learn much."

"Hey hey hey, at least my culture didn't involve constantly taxing people until they revolted!"

"Alfred…" Arthur warned.

"I mean, seriously, what the heck was with that back then, anyways?"

"Alfred!" Arthur's hands clenched into fists, his anger rising.

"What? Is something wrong, Iggy?" Alfred seemed surprised that Arthur was getting angry.

"For the last time, STOP BLOODY CALLING ME THAT!" Arthur roared into Alfred's bewildered face. He turned around sharply and marched down the hallway, leaving behind the stunned America and going out of the building rather than back to the conference room.

_That bloody git. How _dare_ he bring that topic up as if it meant nothing. _Does_ it mean nothing to him? How can it not, when it still pains me every time?_

Before Arthur knew it, he was out in the parking lot, next to his car. _I really ought to go back to the conference…_ Regardless, without another thought, he fished his keys out of his back right pocket and unlocked the car, and then he slid himself into the driver's seat, which was, of course, on the right-hand side where it ought to be. After putting the keys into the ignition, he flipped through his CD collection, pulled out a Beatles CD, and popped it in the slot to play. Maybe some music would help calm him down. Honestly, his nerves had been so frayed lately, what with all the back-to-back meetings and all. There was only so much a gentleman like himself could take of the loud-mouthed American, Alfred, and the French man who molested anything that moved, Francis, before being driven mad. Not to mention having to handle the rest of the batty bunch of nations that all had to attend the World Conferences regularly as well.

Honestly, was he the only sane one of the bunch?

Arthur drove the car out of the parking lot and headed for his house.

* * *

…which was where he was now. And had been for the past three days. Not that he really had any reason to leave his house. After all, that had been the last day of the conference, and there had only been about two hours left of it, though he was still kicking himself over his childish behavior, though it was mostly Francis and Alfred's fault. And he had plenty of food and tea stocked up in his house, so he was fine in that area. And even if the American git felt the need to have called him 47 times since Arthur had stormed off, well, that didn't matter if his phone was on silent. Communication was too bloody easy these days…

Arthur closed the window reluctantly and went back to his bed. He would normally leave his access to the wondrously fresh sea air open, but the nights were getting cooler as summer turned to fall. He figured that he ought to try to get some sleep, at least, even if that American git kept tormenting him. And he had squished it down so _well_ up to now, too.

If only there were some way that Arthur could go back to those day before the _Revolution_, back when Alfred was cute and adorable and loved him like a brother. No, no, those days were too far gone. His relationship with Alfred was too ruined for them to ever truly be like that again. What Arthur really wanted was to have a chance to completely restart his relationship with the American, to have a chance to do things right from the beginning, to respect the man for who he was like he should have done the first time. He snorted, like that could ever happen at this point.

Arthur was about to pull the covers back over his body when he froze. _Wait a minute… Maybe that isn't so far-fetched at all…_

He leaped out of bed again and rushed downstairs to the basement, pausing only to grab a long black cloak that was hanging on a hook next to his bedroom door. Putting the cloak on as he briskly walked, he tried to remember what all spells he had in that old Book of his. Even he, as the personification of England and the Master of all Magyk, did not know what all the Book contained. Of course, for most of his life, he mainly used the curse section and all but ignored the rest of the Book, but he did try to blot out that fact. Regardless, he had at least skimmed the entirety of the Book, having been completely obsessed with it when he had first gotten it. And he was almost certain that the book may have held the exact spell that he was looking for.

Opening the door to his pitch-black dark dungeon of a basement, Arthur quickly struck a match from the matchbox he kept in the cloak's pocket, and he lit several of the numerous candles that were spread about the room. As soon as he deemed the room brightly lit enough, he shook out the match and dropped it in a bin as he walked over to an overly large tome, which was stuffed with notes and was sitting on a pedestal in the dead center of the room. Muttering to himself, he flipped quickly but carefully through the many pages of the ancient spell book, being careful both to not misplace any of his painstakingly written notes and to read each page carefully to see if it contained the vital information he seeked.

Turn the page. Scan.

"No."

Turn the page. Scan.

"Not here.

Turn the page. Scan.

"Darn it, not here eith-"

Wait. What was this spell?

"A Magik That Lets Thy Things Unsaid Be Said. It's a spell to give the caster another chance, it says," Arthur muttered to himself. "It involves transdimensional magic, but it seems simple enough for me, though time consuming." Not to mention that it would take an awful lot of chalk, but it certainly would be worth it. It would be worth it if he could get the chance to start again.

And so Arthur placed the candles, he drew the Gaelic runes, he mixed the tinctures and poured them so they wound around the entire display. It took him several hours of work, to the point where the sun began to peak its head above the horizon, but down in the secluded basement, Arthur was unaware. Though he expected to feel more and more tired from sleep deprivation as the night turned to morning, on the contrary, he couldn't remember ever being more energized, more full of life. For once, he was going to fix the things he had done wrong.

At last, he was finished. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he stepped back to take a look at his work. The runes, some made of white chalk and just as many made from skillfully poured tinctures, took up nearly the entire basement, vast as it was, and he'd spent a good hour just moving all the furniture and the many delicate potions out of the way. "Perfect," he exclaimed. It was only natural that his work would be flawless. All that was left was to recite the chant.

Arthur cautiously stepped over and around the runes until he was in the very center of the mass of multicolored symbols and shapes, and he sat down with his legs crossed. He began to recite the words he had copied down that would make no sense to any normal person.

_San un gli afwarin quin tci glot un loch_

_Grich en iglo fwari soto en shi_

_Du e optysh xian __lamte su iun salashix_

_Ic __ábene uppan __þá ælfena…_

As he continued to chant, he felt a light pressure on him, not from any obvious source, but it pulled on him nonetheless. It was the feel of pure, wild magic, the kind that he hadn't used in centuries. Ah, it felt so good to get back to his roots, to have the chance to use _real_ magic again! It was exhilarating, and he would have whooped for joy if he hadn't been so busy with the spell, and if it wasn't an incredibly inappropriate thing for a gentleman like himself to do.

_Audle sa ogli nte sabu ente ksay_

_Fli zagu vilan potu rupyo dulon_

_Ry un swe!_

As Arthur finished the final words of the chant, the pressure suddenly increased upon him with every syllable, as if the spell were trying to force the words from him. Then, as the last word fled from lips that were cracked from drinking nothing for so long, all the pressure went away at once, the invisible pressure seeming to sense that the spell was complete and its presence was no longer needed.

_So what now?_ Arthur wondered, continuing to sit completely still. Nothing happened. Nothing really seemed to have changed. He still felt exactly the same, still had all his memories, thank goodness, and he noticed nothing different about himself or his surroundings, other that the fact that now that he was finished with the spell, the adrenaline flow has ceased and his sleep deprivation was kicking in.

The spell book had said transdimensional magic, hadn't it? Slowly, his muscles stiff from sitting for the near half hour the chant had taken to recite, he stepped over the runes and made his way to the Book. But lo and behold, the spell had completely disappeared!

_Curse this book_, Arthur grumbled internally. He never really understood the strange things that happened with the Book, but this was the first time that a spell had fully vanished. _I must have done something wrong, something to anger the sprites. I cannot think of any other reason that there would be no reaction at all._ Usually, there was _something_ that happened, even if it was a puff of colored smoke, or a distinct sound, or one of the Fay tapping his gently on his shoulder to let him know. But this time, other that the missing spell, he could not figure out for the life of him what exactly had changed.

Disappointed, Arthur blew out all the candles and headed back to his bedroom, leaving the runes to be cleaned up in the morning. "What time is it, anyways?" he questioned himself as he worked his way up the long flight of stairs between his basement and the main floor of his house. He really should start wearing a wristwatch; more and more often he was encountering times when he couldn't bring the old-fashioned pocket watch with him or forgot to bring it, though he still refused to discard it.

Still muttering to himself, he barely registered the jet-black night sky visible through his many windows as he promptly made his way up the second flight of stairs to his bedroom. Only the fact that it was earlier than he had thought barely flickered through his sleep deprived mind. He made his way to his bedroom quickly, and laid down to go to sleep, falling asleep practically as soon as his head hit his pillow.

_Oh well,_ the Fay Mint thought. _Maybe he'll notice in the morning._

* * *

**Hey everyone, Zapheil here! This is my first fanfiction EVER right here (heck, it's so far the most I've ever written of a story, at least writing that I'm satisfied with), so please forgive me if I go a little OOC! I'm sure Iggy seems a little OOC already, sorry! Also, I'm writing this for NaNoWriMo, and I have therefore not fully edited this yet, so please excuse the spelling/grammatical errors that I'm sure I have, though I tried to get rid of them as I was writing.**

**Reviews are **_**greatly**_** loved, since I'm still a rather novice author.**


	2. You said WHAT happened?

_Drat that Arthur! He's going to be late, I just know it!__ Mint flew back and forth around the room, impatient for her friend and master to wake up. __I didn't expect him to be this tired! How many nights has he stayed up now, anyways?__ The sprite hadn't seen him in days, so she had no idea that Arthur had all but locked himself in the house for nearly half a week, but she did understand the man's erratic sleeping patterns very well. Sometimes he would sleep the night through, but other nights he would hardly sleep at all, preferring instead to hide himself away in his cavern of a basement and to practice his spells until past dawn._

_Mint was thoroughly frustrated. Was this big lunk of an idiot every going to wake up? Ug. She couldn't wait any longer or she was going to go mad. She hated being ignored. And besides that, she needed to tell him about the spell he had just cast. Usually she would have popped in right away from Aelia, the kingdom of the Fay, but well, you see, there was this pie eating contest going on, and it was _purpleberry_ pie, so there was no way she could pass that up._

_But anyways, back to Arthur! He was taking too long to get up! Darn him! Shame on him for making him wait! She wasn't going to wait any longer, she wanted him up _now_. Ceasing her incessant flying in circles around the white and blue room, she crossed her arms and pouted. Mint scanned the room, looking for something that would wake him up in a fashion suitable to her. Something caught her eye, and she glided to Arthur's bedside table. Ooh, this would work. This would work quite nicely._

_She started fiddling with Arthur's alarm clock. The alarm of which, she happily noticed, just so happened to be currently set to an overly loud heavy metal song._

* * *

The first thing that Arthur became conscious of when he first woke up was that it was abnormally light in his bedroom. Drat, had he forgotten to close the shutters when he had closed the window back up? He hated waking up in a non-dark room.

The second thing that he was aware of was that he had gotten a much better night's sleep than he had in a long time. In years, even. All those aches and pains had begun to bother him like they had Yao and Kiku, but right now, he felt simply marvelous.

Most unfortunately, as he opened his bleary eyes, he noticed a third thing. Something that he had expected even less than the first two observations.

His alarm clock was hovering about three feet above his chest, hanging by some unseen force.

Before Arthur could even open his mouth to question to himself just why his alarm clock would be hovering above his person, the invisible force apparently saw fit to release its grip on the clock completely. Gravity took hold and the clock plummeted down hard on his body.

"Bloody—OW!"

He rolled over to his side, limbs reflexively clenching closer to his body from the pain. That bloody hurt! What the heck did that?

He glanced at the clock – it was already 9:00. His blazing emerald eyes then glared around the room, searching for the source of such knavery. He didn't have to look far; the tiny green-hued sprite at fault was still hovering right where his clock had just been hovering, and she was doubled over in laughter. He glowered at her, though she didn't notice in her mirth.

"Mint!" he exclaimed, both in anger and surprise. "What on earth are you doing here? It's been ages since you last came! And what the heck was that for?" He sat up in bed to get a better look at her, the pain in his torso luckily already fading but the scowl still stuck on his face.

"Pfffft, ahahaha!" Mint was obviously still plenty full of laughter. "That look on your _face_, oh my gosh, that was priceless! I haven't gotten you that good in years! Ha!"

"Darn it Mint! Stop laughing already and answer my questions!" He didn't bother asking how a tiny creature like her was able to lift the much larger alarm clock. She may have been only as big as his pointer finger – or maybe his middle finger would be a more apt frame of reference – but as a magical creature, not to mention a magical creature high up in the Fairy Court, her abilities were incredible.

"Ha ha ha…" The laughter slowly faded, though the maniacal grin never left her face for a second. "Well, you wouldn't wake up on your own, so I had to do _something_… It was so boring just waiting around here for you!"

"Waiting around…" His scowl deepened, though it somehow turned more thoughtful at the same time. "How long have you been here for?"

"Mm… Probably around ten hours or so. Can't you see why I wanted you to get up?"

"T-ten _hours_?" Arthur exclaimed, amazed. No wonder he had felt so refreshed when he woke up, he had slept about three more hours than he ever did. "Why on earth did I sleep so long?" he asked, more to himself than to Mint.

"Well duh, you kinda just cast a transdimensional spell, you of all people should know that those just sap the energy right outta you."

And he did know, of course he did, since he had visited Aelia many times to meet with the Fay queen, Galen. He had always taken at least a few hours to be fully revitalized. But wait, hadn't that spell from the night before not worked? After all, he could not find anything really that had changed.

When he said as much to Mint, she clapped her hands together and giggled like a schoolgirl. A deranged schoolgirl. "That means you haven't noticed yet? Ha, and I was afraid I would miss your reaction!" Still giggling, she started pulling on Arthur's pajama sleeve, trying to get him out of his bed.

"Mint, what on earth are you talking about? So the spell did work then?" Arthur was confused. If the spell had succeeded after all, then that was great, but they way the sprite kept going on worried him. Had he only been mostly successful but blotched some important part of it?

His anxiety only made her giggle more and pull on his sleeve harder. Goodness, for such a little thing, she certainly was amazingly strong. Sighing, he decided that he had better follow Mint. For one thing, he knew from past experience that when she wanted something, she would not stop annoying his until he gave in. However, he _was_ curious as to just what she was talking about. For his own sanity, he hoped that it was not anything as bad as she was unknowingly making it out to be.

"Alright, alright. Where is it that you want me to go so desperately?"

Without letting go of Arthur's sleeve, Mint still somehow managed to do a fist pump in a small celebration for getting her way so quickly. The Brit was usually so much more stubborn. "C'mon, to the washroom!"

"The _washroom_?" he asked, confused. What could possibly be in there that was so special?

"You'll _see_, I'm telling you, so hurry up!" The sprite had clearly been waiting just for this. Arthur supposed that he was lucky that she had not woken him up much earlier.

After throwing on his bathrobe (it was _cold_ in the house, even though he had kept the windows closed for the night), he walked with his noisy Fay friend down the hallway to the washroom. Well, in Mint's opinion, she was dragging him, but she was not quite strong enough to manage something like that.

As they walked through the washroom doorway, Arthur half-expected to see some sort of gruesome scene, judging by Mint's excitement and her strange sense of morbidity. But no, the scene before him was completely normal, just the same washroom that he saw all the time.

He turned to the sprite. "I cannot see what—"

"The mirror, the _mirror_! Look in the mirror!"

He glanced at the mirror, but did not see anything particularly different about it, either. "Mint, I don't see…"

Wait a second. He looked back at the mirror, staring at the figure shown in it. And studied it. And stared some more. It couldn't be…

Mint flew up above Arthur and nestled in his hair. Her mirror reflection did the same to that figure in the mirror. That proved it then, that the figure in the mirror was indeed himself, but what on earth did that spell do to him?

* * *

Arthur desperately needed some tea. And he needed it now. But since he was still a proper British gentleman, he calmly walked down the hallway and down the stairs instead of dashing like he was sorely tempted to do. Mint was still lying in his hair; it was her favorite place to be when she was hitching a ride on the man.

As the Brit put the water on to boil and began sorting through his large tea collection to decide which tea to brew, his hands began to shake slightly in nervousness. He certainly had not expected this outcome of the spell, even if it _had_ been a transdimensional spell. He almost felt that he would rather the spell doing some sort of true transformative magic, because that he knew he could easily fix with another spell. But this?

He was a bloody teenager.

Age spells were some of the trickiest of all the magics. Even Arthur did not mess with them, because if you messed up even the smallest amount, the results could be catastrophic. He had seen the results: men who were trying to obtain immortality had been turned into mewling babes who had only gotten younger and younger as time went on; youngling magicians with hopes of attaining wisdom with a shortcut to old age found themselves to suddenly become piles of ash and bones. Yes, age spells were the spells that any wizard with enough common sense would stay from is at all possible. And yet Arthur had just cast on upon himself.

Well, not quite. His age had obviously changed; nobody was going to argue that. But he himself had not directly cast that magic. The spell that he _had_ cast actually had some intelligence of its own, intelligence derived from the flow of pure magic flowing though every living being, and for whatever reason, it had decided to change Arthur as it deposited him in this alternate universe. Alternate universe it was, because even though everything had the same appearance (save for Arthur, of course), the differences came from the people themselves and all the choices that they may have made that were slightly different than their counterparts in any other universe.

At least, this all was what Mint was explaining about the situation while Arthur finished making his tea and began to drink it. Ah, even if it was far too early in the day to properly have tea, he never could go wrong with some good Darjeeling. It was his beverage of choice when he was feeling stressed. And he had not felt this stressed for a long, long time.

Blast it all, why had he just rushed blindly into the spell like that? It was abnormal for Arthur to not take the utmost precautions before attempting a new spell. He should have consulted Mint beforehand, at least! She certainly seemed to know an awful lot about the details and hidden workings of this world he had stupidly hurled himself into. _Then again,_ he thought, staring over the rim of his teacup at the little green sprite, _she certainly seems pleased that I ended up in this mess, so she probably would not have told me everything regardless._ Like most of the Fay, Mint loved trickery, and in her case especially when it involved Arthur.

"So what do I do to reverse this spell?" Arthur asked, sounding calmer than he felt. All spells had ways to undo them, although some were harder than others, and a handful were practically impossible to reverse, even if it was possible. He hoped this one was not one of the latter. Again he cursed himself for so stupidly rushing like that.

"Oh, you can't, not really."

"…what?"

"This spell involves time. And it's so complexly woven that the best thing to do is just wait for the magic to end. This isn't a permanent magic, after all."

Arthur carefully set down his tea cup onto its saucer with barely a clink, then held his head in his hands. He had to wait? That would not be good. The Brit was terribly impatient when it came to magic. When he was much younger, this impatience had led to many and explosion or something else going horribly wrong because he had rushed. With age, he had gotten better, but when he had no control over the situation, like now, the stress rapidly built up and he wanted results quickly.

"Surely there is some way to reverse this. All magic can be undone, that's one of the Laws of Merlin!"

Mint chewed on her lower lip. "Well, yeah. But it's really really hard."

Arthur sighed. "Just tell me, Mint, please."

"Um, well, you know all those runes that you had to draw before? You have to draw them all again, in exactly the same spot, but reversed."

"Reversed in what way, if they must be in the exact same spot?"

"Reversed colors. The runes that were poured out by tinctures before have to be drawn out with chalk, and the chalk runes made with the tinctures, with the colors going in the same pattern as before."

"That does not sound particularly difficult, besides lining things up correctly. There certainly were a massive number of runes, but it can be done again. I have the materials." Arthur was already calculating in his head the amount of the tinctures he would need to replace the chalk.

Mint coughed delicately, slightly flustered. "Er, that isn't exactly all of it," she admitted. She hadn't exactly wanted to mention this; she had hoped in vain that Arthur would simply concede defeat at the hand of his own spell and not clung to any hope that might bring him back home sooner. "If you go this way, then there wouldn't be all that much you can do to fix your age."

Arthur looked up and blinked, surprised. The sprite had been laughing about his change in age since he had gotten up, but now she was dead serious. _She is worried about me after all_, he thought. And she had a good point, besides that. Master magician though he may be, he was not willing to even attempt casting an age spell on himself. Or anyone else, really. The risks were far greater than the pros.

Oh yes, and there was another thing that he was overlooking. "I suppose you are right, Mint. Though come to think of it, I would not be able replicate all of the runes after all. The spell disappeared from the Book as soon as I finished casting it."

"WHAT?"

Arthur was more than a little surprised at the sprite's reaction. Rarely had he seen her so upset over something, the little thing seemed to be stuck in her happy-go-lucky most of the time. "Mint?" he said cautiously, not wanted to make her even angrier. "Is something wrong with that?"

His caution was wasted. "A spell _disappeared_ from the _Book_," she said, seething. "Why are _you_ not _more_ upset?"

Poor Arthur was terribly confused. "Er, when I assumed that I had mixed up the spell, I thought that one of the Fay could have possible been angry and not wanted to let me have a second try?"

Mint shook her head in exasperation. He didn't really blame her; now that his head was no longer as sleep-deprived, the idea sounded quite childish to him as well.

"Arthur, have you truly gone _insane_? The Book is practically our source of _life_, it has all our spells and history in it! You're the _Keeper_, you of all people ought to know how important it is! By Galen, Arthur! Why would we purposefully _eradicate_ our own magic?"

The Brit hung his head in shame. "I… I'm sorry Mint, I really am," he said softly.

Mint was surprised. Sure she had just yelled at him for being a blatant idiot, but she hadn't actually expected the man to apologize. She'd just assumed that he would be the pigheaded dope he always was and argue back just as strongly that it wasn't his fault, that he was tired or didn't know all the inner workings of the Fay or whatever else. There really wasn't any good argument he could give, of course, but she hadn't expected him to just give in so easily. Was he more frightened by this situation than she had thought at first? He was usually so strong, she figured that he would adapt and find the bright side without batting an eye, though outwardly complaining all along the way. But this _was_ something entirely new, something neither of them had expected.

The sprite glided over to Arthur's left shoulder, putting a hand on him to offer at least a small amount of comfort. He looked over at her. "Thanks, Mint," he whispered, lips forming a small yet sad and frightened smile.

However, Mint wasn't the type to comfort people for too long; she just wasn't made to handle too much mushy stuff. She pushed off his shoulder and fluttered to right in front of his face. "C'mon, Arthur! It'll be fine! When the spell ends, everything gets turned back to the same way it was! It'll be like nothing ever happened!"

Arthur frowned, and their conversation resumed in the manner it had been in before. "Yes, but how long of a wait are you talking about? A week, a month?"

"Er…"

"Mint, stop cutting corners," he snapped.

"Alright, alright. Um…a year, maybe?"

Arthur's jaw dropped. A whole bloody _year_? This was insane! How was he supposed to manage in an unfamiliar environment when he was…_changed_ the way he was? Teenagers could hardly do anything in society! "Mint," he said through gritted teeth, "just what do you expect me to do as a teenager for a whole bloody _year_?"

The sprite quailed under the Brit's threatening glare, though she knew that his anger was not directed towards her, but towards his situation. "I-I don't know," she admitted. She had no clue what to do, even though she was usually the one who was quick to find the silver lining in a situation that any sane person would consider depressing. It was a wonderful quirk that helped to balance out the grumpy Brit's sullen attitude towards nearly everything. But now, she was at a loss, and at the time when her friend needed her the most, too. She felt useless.

The sprite slowly drifted down to the table where she sat with her legs hanging off the edge, and Arthur quietly excused himself to go make another cup of tea. She bent her head down until it nearly touched her knees, and she rubbed at her temples, her face slightly scrunched in concentration. To some it may have looked like she was trying to get rid of a headache, but it was really just the way she acted when she needed to concentrate on something big. And she called this situation big. What was there for him to do, really, until the spell unraveled itself?

"Mint?"

The tiny sprite jumped. She had been so lost in thought that when Arthur returned to the table, she hadn't even noticed the man, but there he was, sitting in his chair as if he had never even left, except for the fresh cup of tea that he was holding in one hand.

Arthur coughed into the hand that wasn't holding his tea, slightly embarrassed at having startled his friend. "I was just wondering, why is it that you are here with me? Were you somehow caught up in this spell as well?" The Brit was worried that he had horribly inconvenienced the sprite with his own foolish spells.

"Oh no, not at all!" Mint exclaimed, sensing the reason behind Arthur's question. "I'm one of the Fay, it only stands to reason that I'd be able to cross between the dimensions."

Understanding and relief filled Arthur's eyes, as well as an avid curiosity. "So you can cross over into this world the same way that you cross between my world and Aelia?" he asked before taking a sip of his tea and setting the cup down.

"Not exactly. It's rather hard to explain to humans…" Mint scratched the back of her head as she tried to find the right words to explain the phenomenon. "To go between our two worlds, it's like I just have to step forward into the right place at the right time, and I'm there. To get to this world is like stepping backwards and sideways with both feet at the same time, and it's harder to find the right synchronization. Your world and mine are very close, which is why you see us all the time over there. But to get here, it's just not worth the effort when there are much more interesting places to explore in your world."

"Ah," Arthur said simply, nodding; the sprite's explanation apparently made perfect sense to him. "So what you are saying is, there will not be as many of the Fay in this world?"

"Hardly any, actually."

Arthur leaned back in his chair. "It's a relief that you are not stuck in this world as I am. Aren't you taking classes at the university right now? You do need to keep up your studies you know," he said with a slight frown, though the relief stayed in his eyes.

"Yes, I suppose. It's not like they're that important though, you're the one who needs me here right now."

Wait a minute. University… School…

Arthur let out a soft laugh into the teacup that he had picked back up and was lifting to his lips. "Your education is important, Mint. You ought to take it more seriously."

"That's true… But what about you?" the sprite asked, a devilish look creeping into her light brown eyes again. Oh, this would work out _perfectly_.

The slightly amused look remained on Arthur's face. "What do you mean? I'm a grown man, and I finished all the education that I needed several centuries ago."

"You don't look like a grown man to me right now." The devilish glint in her eyes spread throughout her face to form a devilish smile. In fact, the sprite's entire tiny frame was just oozing with her true trickster's spirit.

"Mint, what are you-" Arthur sputtered. "You cannot be—You must be joking! I am several _centuries_ old! Just because I look like…like _this_ right now does not mean that I am truly this age!"

"Hey, you're the one who said you didn't know what to do as a teenager for a whole year! And it's perfect timing, too."

"No! I absolutely refuse! It would be ridiculous!"

"Arthur…" Mint sighed. He didn't really get it. "It's not like you can just stay inside this house for an entire year. You'll need food, for one thing." Honestly, even when he didn't have the appearance of a teenager, the Brit could be so childish.

"But _school_? Me, the personification of the entirety of England, going to a common high school? I would look ridiculous!"

"You know," Mint said softly, "this spell doesn't bring you to a _completely_ different place from your true world. The people you knew in that world will almost definitely appear in this world as well. Including Alfred. Wasn't that pretty much _why_ you cast this spell in the first place?"

Arthur froze. "H-how did you know that?"

"I'm smarter than you give me credit for, Arthur." Her eyes narrowed. "I would say that it's fairly obvious that you've been upset about your fractured relationship ever since the war. Isn't that why you cast the spell? To start again?"

She certainly was perceptive, Arthur had to give her that. He had worked hard to make sure that his inner fragility was never seen by anybody, human or Fay. But this tiny little sprite had seen past the layers upon layers of steel that he had hammered down over his own heart.

"Darn it, Mint," Arthur muttered, running his fingers backward through his hair. "Fine. You win. Happy?"

"Extremely so," she replied, grinning smugly. She was very happy indeed. This was going to be fun.

* * *

**Oh wow, second chapter already! I was close to finishing this today, so I just decided to get it completely done. Aaand then it ended up being almost a thousand words longer than I thought it'd be. But hey, it's finished! It has minimal editing again, though. Since I'm writing this for NaNoWriMo, I'm just going to try and crank these chapters out as fast as I can, so expect a new chapter every few days or so, unless I sadly get very far behind. But right now I'm ahead of schedule! Ahaha!**

**Oh yeah, and can you tell how evil I am? I love suspence so much. And now you have to wait until next chapter before the plot actually gets going, too. It was going to start this chapter, but it got so long that I decided to split it here.**

**Another thing, in case you can't tell, yes, I got the idea of Mint from the Flying Mint Bunny. However, Mint is not a flying bunny, but a sprite. Yes, there is a difference. And I'm curious, can anybody guess what fictional character I slightly based her personality on?**

…**so yeah. Once again, ****reviews are **_**greatly**_** loved, since I'm still a rather novice author. **


	3. How rude can you get?

A breeze tumbled through the air, causing tree branches to shudder and dance, the fallen leaves to flutter across the ground, and a certain young man's papers to fly all over the place as soon as he set them down.

"Darn it," he muttered, "not on the first day!"

He quickly dashed about, trying to collect all of the pages before they flew off beyond recapture, ignoring the muffled laughs of the few other students passing by who had also come as early as him. This year was going to be great, he had decided, so why the heck was something as annoying as this happening on the first day of his junior year of high school? Still grumbling to himself, he snatched up the last paper and bounced the stack off his upper leg a couple times to straighten them all out.

As he was heading back to where he had left his backpack and his lunchbox – the school cafeteria didn't start serving the edible food until a good week after school actually started – he collided with a shorter boy who had just stepped out from behind a building while staring in the completely opposite direction.

"What the—" was all the taller boy could say before he fell to the ground along with the other boy.

What was with this day so far?

The shorter boy quickly jumped up and brushed off the couple leaf fragments that had stuck themselves to his clothes when he had collided with the ground. "Terribly sorry, that was very rude of me…" his voice trailed off slightly as he stared at the taller man, only just now actually seeing the person he had just nearly run over.

"No, no, it's cool," said the taller boy swiftly. "It's happened to me before, don't sweat it."

…No response.

"Um, are you ok?" He waved his hand quickly in front of the statue-still boy, who suddenly came back to life with a couple of fast-paced blinks and a massive scarlet blush.

"O-of course I'm alright. We just collided is all, it's not like you ran me over with a bloody steam engine or anything." The boy attempted to scowl through his incessant blush.

Was that a British accent? You didn't see too many Brits around this school. Sure, there were people from pretty much every part of the world – Hetalia Academy _was_ located in America, the mixing pot of the world, after all, and tons of people were still immigrating over – but for some reason, there were few people from Britain around. What's more, he didn't recognize this student at all, though he had come to know almost every person in the school over the two years that he had already attended, and this guy definitely wasn't a freshman. Was this a transfer student, maybe?

"Right, right. Say, are you new here?" he started, but the other boy had already stomped off nearly to the other side of the courtyard that they were in. Geez, what was his problem? This guy was apparently offended way too easily. It was a good thing that he hadn't said anything about those massive eyebrows of his. He _must_ be new; there's no way that this guy could escape his notice for two years while looking like that.

He stood there for a minute more, random thoughts running through his head. Then he checked his watch – it was already 7:30. "Shoot, where is that guy? He was going to meet me here so we could compare our schedules before class!" he groused about his friend.

Then – "Alfred-san!" a quiet voice called from behind him.

The boy in question turned to see with bright blue eyes his Japanese friend jogging towards him. "Hey, Kiku! Where were you?"

The boy's face was slightly flushed, as if he had just been running hard. "My apologies, I was running a bit late."

"Hey, no biggie. Here, lemme grab my bag so we can go over our schedules!" Alfred ran back to his backpack, quickly putting that strange blond British kid out of his mind.

* * *

"I can't believe that we don't have any classes together this year!" Alfred groaned as first bell rang and he and Kiku prepared to go to their period one classes that were on the opposite ends of the school campus. "I mean, last year we had like half our classes together, but now we don't even have lunch together? This _sucks_!"

"I-it's fine, Alfred-san," Kiku said, looking downwards, slightly embarrassed as always by his overly loud best friend. "We will still be able to see each other during breaks, as well as before and after school."

"Ah, dude, that's not the point though!" Alfred tilted his head up and looked up at the sky. "I promised myself that this year would be awesome, and so far it's turning out to be a real bummer. I mean, first, my papers fly everywhere in the wind, then I run into this crazy looking guy, now this?"

Kiku looked at Alfred, slightly startled. "A crazy looking person? Was it somebody you know?" Alfred was pretty much the best friend of everybody on the campus, so it was rare for him to run into anybody he didn't know.

"Nah, it was some newbie. He's probably a transfer student." He paused, then cackled suddenly. "I think I would have recognized _that_ kind of appearance before!"

Before Kiku could ask Alfred what he meant, he rushed off to class, and Kiku figured that if he didn't want to be late, he'd better do the same.

* * *

Alfred's schedule said that he had Spanish first period, so he headed for room 46 in Swift Hall.

Ah yes, perhaps a bit of school background information is in order. At Hetalia Academy, there were four main halls in the four corners of the campus. Schleiden Hall had the math and science classes; Alitahe Hall had the history, English, and literature classes; Swift Hall had the language and health classes, as well as the classes that didn't really have a category; and Spenser Hall had the Fine Arts classes. Many students called the halls by their proper names, but just as many students simply used Hall One, Hall Two, Hall Three, and Hall Four, respectively. It was just easier that way, sometimes. In the center of campus, where the four halls met, there was a large courtyard, which was where Alfred had been waiting for Kiku, and where he had literally run into that one British kid. But whatever, it was time for class now.

Alfred always looked forward to his Spanish classes. It's not that he particularly loved the language or anything. His main reason for taking the class was that knowing the language would come in handy for him, since he seemed to run into Spanish-speaking people on a regular basis, especially when he was looking for jobs. No, he loved his Spanish classes because –

"We're in the same class AGAIN? The heck IS this?" Alfred heard a loud voice exclaim from the classroom that he was about to enter.

"But Lovi~, aren't you happy that we get to start every day together this year?"

"Like _heck_ I am, you jerk!"

Alfred smiled. It was because of _those_ two, Antonio and Lovino. Their crazy antics made the class fun every day. The three of them had been in the same Spanish class since freshman year. Lovino, who was Italian, had the temperament and grace of a rabid cat that had been dunked in water and had its tail stepped on numerous times. He had a hair-trigger temper, and most of his anger was usually directed at the Spaniard Antonio, who just sucked it all in with his never-fading grin. Alfred kind of thought it was cheating that Antonio took classes for a language he was fluent in, but he knew that it was really just so that he could spend more time with his beloved "Lovi." What the Spaniard saw in that crazy violent psycho, Alfred would never be able to understand.

Alfred made it through the doorway just as the bell was about to ring. _Phew, safe_, he thought as he slid into his seat. He'd always figured that it didn't really matter what time it was that he made it to class as long as it was before the bell. He hated getting detention with a passion even though he was, ironically, one of the big pranksters of the campus. It was really more the "getting caught" part that irked him.

As Senorita Brown walked into the classroom, Alfred leaned back, relaxed, and prepared for a fun class day.

* * *

Alfred certainly wasn't disappointed in his pre-evaluation of his first period class. There had been some new faces – a few people had skipped a level over the summer to get into the Level Three Spanish class – so the teacher had all of the students go through self-introductions in Spanish, giving their name, their grade level, and their hobbies, and in English, their reason for taking the class. When it had gotten to Antonio's turn, he'd stood up and said "Mi nombre es Antonio, estoy en el grado undécimo, y me encanta comer tomates! My reason for taking this class is so that I can be with my dear Lovi!" And as he said so, he leaned across the aisle and gave Lovino a large bear hug. The chaos that ensued from the psycho Italian was impressive, even for him.

Still chuckling, Alfred headed for his next class, Chemistry, in Schleiden Hall. Science, ugh. The smile slowly faded from his face. Physics last year had been a total nightmare. He probably wouldn't have made it through the year sanely if it hadn't been for Kiku. Meeting the Japanese boy had probably been one of the best things that had ever happened to the American. Not only was he a great friend, but he was one of the smartest kids in the school. Not only that, but he was patient, and kind, and nice… He was pretty much the best friend Alfred had ever had, really.

All too soon, there was the Chemistry room. Alfred groaned internally. He really didn't want to go to this class. He may have liked math fine, but for some reason, he was horrible at science, or at least Physics. Regardless of his dreading the class, he went in and sat down at a random desk, and waited for class to start.

* * *

_Hm. That wasn't too bad, actually._

Alfred was certain that Chemistry wouldn't be his favorite subject of all time, but at least it probably wouldn't be the death trap that he'd been expecting. He'd ended up being in the same class as several of his closer friends, for one thing – Gilbert, Toris and Vash were all in his class. Though he couldn't really call Vash a "close friend," he supposed, because the guy was a freakin' psychopath. Even more so than Lovino, and that was saying something. The guy was smart and all, and a great guy once you got to know him, but _man_, he was scary at times.

Gilbert, on the other hand, was also somewhat crazy, but a _good_ kind of crazy, in Alfred's opinion. He definitely had a bit of an ego (that being a huge understatement) which probably stemmed from his uniqueness of being an albino, but he was a great guy to hang out with. That said, he was probably the school's biggest troublemaker, though he often seemed to get out of punishment somehow. He claimed it was due to his "awesomeness," though it was probably more because his younger brother, Ludwig, would all the time be cleaning up after Gilbert.

Since it was the first day of classes, they hadn't really done much, mostly just went over the syllabus that the teacher, Ms. Vann, handed out. The topics they would cover that year seemed a lot more interesting that Physics, and they'd be doing a lot of labs. Ms. Vann decided to give everyone their lab partner assignments too, and Alfred hoped he'd be paired with Gilbert, but instead he ended up with the shy Toris. Well, at least Toris was good at science, Alfred reasoned. Gilbert, on the other hand, had ended up getting paired with Vash. The teacher had undoubtedly heard of the albino's troublemaking behavior and paired him with Vash so that they would actually get some work done. Vash would also probably help to keep Gilbert from blowing up the school during the labs.

Alfred checked his schedule again. He had break now, that he knew, but after break was…English. Alright, that he could handle. The American was actually fairly good at writing essays and such, so he always got good grades in that class. Plus, he'd heard that Mr. Volen, the teacher that he'd ended up with, was crazy fun.

He had planned to meet Kiku in the courtyard during break, but first he really had to go to his locker and dump some of these books. He had brought all of his books with him since it was the first day, and he had planned of putting them in his locker before school, but then Kiku had been late, and he didn't really get a chance. So he'd been lugging his massive amount of textbooks around all day. It's a good thing his backpack was big.

His locker was #492, in Swift Hall. Come to think of it, he probably should have just dropped off his stuff during the passing period between Spanish and Chemistry, since Spanish had been in this hall. _Oh well_, he though, shrugging it off. _Too late now_. Standing now in front of his locker, he turned the dial (7-4-21, an easy combination to remember since the first two digits were his birthday) and opened his locker. He didn't have a locker partner this year, unlike the last two years, so he had plenty of room to put all of his stuff. He dumped all of his books besides what he needed for English class, because it was his only other class before lunch. He had Lunch 1, so he ate between period 3 and period 4. Kiku had Lunch 2, it so wasn't fair. Oh, lunch. He should probably put his lunch box into his backpack instead of his locker. He was used to having second lunch.

After closing his locker back up and making sure it was locked, he jogged down the hallway toward the courtyard. He saw Kiku waiting next to the large fountain in the center, reading a manga. "Hey, Kiku! So how were your first couple classes?" he asked, going next to him and casually leaning on the edge of the fountain and setting his backpack down next to it.

Kiku looked up, slightly startled. He had been so engrossed in his book that he hadn't even noticed the American coming up to him, and that was saying something. "Ah, Alfred-san," he said in his soft voice. "They went well, I suppose."

Alfred made a "psh" sort of noise. "I bet your teachers are all excited to have the brainy kid in their classes. Makes 'em look better."

"I-I don't quite think that is the case," Kiku replied, faintly blushing at the praise.

"Eh, whatever. Meet anyone new?" While Alfred may have been one of the most popular and well-known kids on campus, Kiku was nearly the opposite, choosing to keep to himself most of the time. As a result, Alfred was nearly his only friend.

"Yes, actually. There was a new transfer student in my first period class. The teacher introduced him at the beginning. He was in my second period class as well, surprisingly."

"Really? What was he like?"

"Well, he was very quiet. He mostly scowled and looked like he did not want to be here. However, he is my lab partner for Biology, so I hope we can get along."

"He sounds annoying," Alfred said bluntly.

"I'm sure that he is just still adjusting to a new school. He seemed shy. He did not seem to want to make eye contact with anybody." _Especially me, it seems_, he thought, frowning very slightly. When the boy had been introduced in front of the class during Biology, he seemed to want to look anywhere besides at Kiku. Even when the teacher announced them to be lab partners, he had refused to look at Kiku, faintly blushing as he stared intently down at his desk instead.

"Hm. What's he look like? And what's his name? I'll look out for him in my other classes." _If only to avoid him_, he thought.

"Ah, well… His name is Arthur Kirkland. He is a small amount taller than me, though not as tall as you. He has blond hair, green eyes, and….um…rather…_large_ eyebrows," Kiku said, cheeks flaring up scarlet in embarrassment.

Alfred's own (perfectly normal-sized) eyebrows flew up in surprise. "No way! That must be the guy who ran into me this morning!"

"Really? Is he the person you were talking about earlier, then?"

"Yeah! That jerk!" Alfred pouted, crossing his arms.

Kiku rolled his eyes a little. "Alfred, I'm sure that it was a complete accident. Did he apologize?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"He was probably just in a hurry."

Alfred could see that he would get no sense out his friend. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said, sighing.

The bell rang, signaling the end of break. "Shoot!" Alfred exclaimed, scrambling to get his stuff. "I'll see you after school then? Let's go over to McDonald's or something!"

"I suppose. I will see you later then."

Alfred set off for his English class. He may have been willingly to be a slight daredevil when getting to his first period class, but he wasn't risking anything during passing periods when the halls were flooded and you had to fight your way to get anywhere. He would've liked to have talked to Kiku a bit more, but it was time for English class. He didn't really want to be late to this class, anyways. He was looking forward to the class.

* * *

Scratch that. Alfred really, really, _really_ wasn't looking forward to English anymore. He rushed from the classroom as fast as his long legs could bring him without running. Oh, the class was fine. They were starting off the year by reading _Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_, a book that Alfred had read many times since he was younger. The teacher was great, already as fun seeming as the rumors had said. No, the problem lied with the other students. Not even with all of them, really. Just one.

Ivan freakin'_ Braginski_ was in his class.

Alfred had managed to avoid the tall frightening Russian for his entire high school career, so far, so why were they in the same class now, darn it? He shivered. He may have been friends with practically the whole school, but Ivan was one person he tried to avoid at all cost. In fact, _most_ of the students tried to avoid him. He wasn't a person you wanted to get on the bad side of. Or the good side; the students who he treated as his lackeys could attest to that.

Alfred was starting to worry that all of his classes would have psychopaths in them.

Not only was that Russian freak in his class, though, but Alfred didn't have _any_ close friends in it. This was going to suck. At least he didn't have to sit next to Ivan. As soon as he'd walked though the classroom door seen the Russian sitting with a peaceful smile on his face (Alfred was _sure_ he was hiding something), he'd quickly taken a seat as far away from him as possible in the back. He didn't want that creep to be stared down his back all through the period.

So. So far, Alfred only had one class that he actually liked, Spanish. Chemistry didn't seem like it would be as bad as he had feared, but that didn't mean that he was looking forward to it. English had the freaky Russian creep. He skimmed his schedule for about the tenth time that day (Shut up, he was bad at memorizing stuff, ok?). He still had math, history, and drama ahead of him. But first was lunch. His stomach gurgled, as if to exemplify that fact.

The cafeteria was located at the southern end of campus, between Schleiden Hall and Alitahe Hall, so it was a very short walk from Alfred's English class. Finally, a stroke of luck from the evil schedule of doom that he had gotten this year. Maybe he'd have some friends to share this lunch with, too.

Apparently, his luck was perking up. "Oi, Gilbert!" Alfred called, spotting his albino friend already sitting down at a nearby table.

"Alfred! Kesesese, you have this lunch too?" Gilbert said, laughing in his own weird way. "C'mere, join the party!" He pulled out a chair for the American.

Not only did he share lunch period with Gilbert, but apparently Gilbert's brother Ludwig too, as well as their friend Elizabeta. They all had a third period class that was even closer to the lunchroom than Alfred, which was how they had gotten their own table so fast. The three of them sat at a round lunch table together, and they all had brought their own lunches too, probably for the same reason as Alfred. _I'm not sure why the cafeteria even bothers selling any food at all before they get the good tasting stuff_, he thought as he sat down in the offered chair and took out his own lunchbox, dumping the contents onto the table.

"Alfred, can you physically eat _anything_ besides junk food?" Elizabeta asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Hey, this totally isn't junk food!" Alfred complained. His lunch was composed of two cold cheesy hot dogs (which he planned to heat up in the one of the microwaves that the cafeteria had scattered around the room for students), a bag of chips, and a bottle of soda. Totally healthy, right? It had every food group besides fruits, anyways. Maybe next time he'd bring an apple or something. If he remembered.

Elizabeta gave a small sound of disgust.

The rest of their lunch consisted of, besides eating, mostly lewd jokes between Alfred and Gilbert that made Ludwig incredibly embarrassed to have such a crazy older brother and that made Elizabeta smack Gilbert on the side of his head a few times. A bit more than a few times, really, but he deserved it, really.

All too soon, the bell rang, and it was time for Alfred's next class. Shoot – he really needed to book it, he'd totally forgotten to leave a couple minutes early to go to his locker and get the books he needed for the last three classes of his day.

* * *

Hm, Precalculus wasn't that bad, Alfred supposed. Yes, Precalculus. Don't act so surprised, he was smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for. But he _was_ a little miffed to find that Ludwig was in the same class as him, even though he was a year younger. Though Alfred was very aware that he was nowhere near being the best at any subject, he did kinda get a bit peeved when people did so _much_ better than him. He felt it was unfair, in a way, though a part of him actually understood how irrational that was. It probably stemmed from when he was in middle school, when he actually had been near the top of his class. But since then, he had taken his smarts for granted and hadn't bothered to put as much work into what he did. As a result, the other students had passed by him, leaving him behind to wonder just what had happened.

But whatever. He was back on track now, and he got decent grades in his classes, so it didn't really matter what he was like back then, did it? Besides, he ought to be worrying about his classes right now instead of what happened years ago. And right now, he had to get to his History class. Alfred grinned. Eleventh grade meant U.S. History classes for all of the students at Hetalia Academy. _Awesome_, he thought. He was _very_ patriotic (GO AMERICA!), so he loved learning about his country's heritage. World History was no fun, because America hadn't been around back in the time period that the class covered.

Alfred glanced at his watch. _Shoot_. He needed to walk faster or he wouldn't make it to class on time. Stupid schedule, making him go all half-way across campus to go between any two of his classes. Last year, they had been much more conveniently spread. Besides that, why did they only have four minute passing periods when the halls were all so far apart? Geez, this school made no sense sometimes. He upped his pace anyway. More than his other classes, this was one he was sure that his didn't want to be late for.

His History class was in room 26, which was luckily right at the end of the hallway. He rounded the corner quickly, planning on making a quick "U-turn" into the classroom when –

SMACK.

The heck? What was with him and crashing into people today?

The person he had run into stood up, and Alfred groaned internally as he stood up himself. Had he seriously just run into the exact same person as this morning? It had to be, there was no way that there were multiple people running around with eyebrows _that_ size.

What had Kiku said his name was? Arthur something? Arthur Kirkland, that was it. Alfred may have had a bad memory for schedules, but he had always been good at remembering names. He sighed. This British kid seemed obnoxious to him, from what Kiku had said about him, but he supposed that since it was the guy's first day, he ought to at least be civil to him to start with. He reached out his hand to the boy.

"Ah, whoops!" he said with a bright grin. "Two times in one day, we must have bad luck, huh? I'm Alfred Jones, by the way. Welcome to Hetalia Academy."

But the Brit just ignored him and coolly slid his way past him into the classroom before Alfred had even finished talking. Well. He didn't know _what_ Kiku was talking about, this guy really was just plain rude. Was he _trying_ to annoy everyone in the school on his first day?

Alfred followed the obnoxious boy into the room, luckily getting in right before the bell. He sat down at a random seat, like he had for all of his other classes, but then the teacher, Ms. Amherst, announced that they would all be getting assigned seats for this class. Shoot. He hoped he got a good seat in the back. Alfred hated getting assigned seats because they all too often meant he was stuck in the very front. Luckily, though, he ended up close to the back instead. Unluckily, he was sitting right next to that British jerk. Seriously, what was _with_ this wacko day he was having?

He didn't even bother trying to make conversation with the boy. The jerk could stay lonely if he wanted.

* * *

History class passed by without anything special happening and next on Alfred's schedule was Drama. Which was great, because this way it looked like he'd only be having one class with the British weirdo. He doubted that the boy would take up Drama as an elective, seeing how quiet he was already. And how rude.

So why was the guy following him down the hallway?

Alfred sped up a little. Ok, so first the Brit ran into him and then walked away when Alfred tried to talk to him, and now he was stalking him to his classes? This was more than a little weird.

Alfred spun around to face the other boy, much to the latter's surprise. "What are you following me for?" he asked, annoyed.

The Brit stared at him like he was an idiot. No, wait, he was staring to the _side_ of Alfred. Serious, what the heck was with this guy? He didn't even want to _look_ at other people?

Wait, he was saying something. "Our next classes are probably near each other, you idiot," the Brit muttered.

_Oh_. OH. Oh.

Well, he felt kind of stupid now.

Blushing a bit in embarrassment, Alfred spun back around and continued walking to Drama, missing the small, stifled laugh that came from behind him.

* * *

To heck with "near each other." They'd had the _same_ class. _Again_.

Who know the British kid liked theatre so much? Or that he'd apparently completely memorized some of Shakespeare's plays? (The teacher, Ms. Morgan, had made them all introduce themselves and give an interesting fact about them relating to theatre.)

Anyway, Alfred was annoyed that this British kid kept popping up near him, only to be rude and try and get away from him. He was so _weird_.

Oh well, at least school was over now, at last, and he was free to meet up with Kiku. Alfred really wanted to talk about something other than school-related stuff. He pulled out his cell phone, took it off of silent (psh, he didn't _really_ need to turn it all the way off during school), and punched in the Japanese boy's phone number. No answer, of course. He'd forgotten that Kiku actually did turn his phone off during school, and probably hadn't turned it back on yet.

Oh well, he could wait. Oh yeah, and probably go to his locker, too…

* * *

"I'll have two double hamburgers, a large thing of fries, and a large Coca Cola, please!" Alfred ordered, back in his usual chipper personality now that school was over and he was at his favorite eating establishment in the world. "Kiku, you want anything?" he asked, turning to his friend.

"Ah, no thank you, Alfred-san, but thank you for the offer."

Alfred shrugged. "Alright, suit yourself." Though he couldn't see why anybody would turn down such amazing food. This stuff was like heaven for the taste buds.

When Alfred had gotten his food, he and Kiku grabbed a corner table near the back of the restaurant.

"So besides that British jerk being in a couple of your classes, how'd your day go, Kiku?" Alfred asked, unwrapping one of his burgers and smearing ketchup on the top half of the bun.

"Alfred-san, I think you are being too brash with your judgment of Arthur-san."

"Aw, c'mon. He runs into me twice and ignores both of us when we talk and talk to him? That's pretty darn rude."

Kiku frowned. "He ran into you twice?"

"Yeah! The jerk's in my history class, and he freaking ran into me right as I was about to go into the classroom! And then I tried to be all nice to him, and he just ignored me and pushed past me into the classroom!" Alfred complained in between mouthfuls of burger and slurps of his soda.

"Are you sure that it wasn't just an accident? You do tend not to look where you are going," Kiku remarked bluntly.

"What, you're going to take that jerk's side?" Alfred gaped at his friend.

"No, I am simply saying that it was not necessarily his fault."

"That's totally taking his side," the American whined.

"There is the possibility that both times it was a complete accident, and neither your fault nor his," Kiku signed. "And I am not surprised that he decided to ignore you with the attitude that you are giving off about him."

Alfred, on the other hand _did_ seem surprised. "But I was trying to be nice to him! I introduced myself and everything!"

"Did you apologize?"

"…for what?"

Kiku was growing slightly exasperated at his friend's obvious lack of ability to read the atmosphere. "You said that Arthur-san apologized the first time that you two collided, right? Did you apologize the second time at all"

"Why would I do that? It definitely wasn't my fault, so what would I apologize _for_?"

Kiku rubbed his temples. "Alfred-san, it is only polite in circumstances such as those to make yourself modest and take the blame, even if it is not your fault."

"I don't get it." It was a good thing the Japanese boy was patient, anyone else would have broken Alfred's neck already.

"What I am trying to say is, you were in the wrong."

"Bu— That's not—" Alfred spluttered.

"I am only saying what I see. It is but my own opinion. You are free to take the situation either way. I am simply attempting to give advice."

_Sigh._ Darn it, sometimes Kiku was really convincing. And as loath as he was to admit it, he might have a point. "Fine, fine. But the guy's still a jerk, you're not getting me out of thinking that one."

"I would not dream of it, Alfred-san," Kiku replied. He knew he was lucky that he had managed to convince the American of anything other than the boy's own opinion.

* * *

After he had finished eating and talking to Kiku, though most of the latter part of the conversation was rather one-sided, Alfred went back home to get started on the homework he had already gotten – _not_. Hey, why would he waste perfectly good time doing homework when he could be killing zombies on one of his video games? It was an obvious choice.

"Hey Mattie, I'm home! You here?" he called out to his brother as he came through the front to his house. He didn't bother calling for his parents; they were both full-time workers and wouldn't be home until late.

"Hey, bro," Matthew called from the couch where he was casually lounging, a bowl of chips in front of his and a can of Canada Dry Ginger Ale open on the coffee table in front of him.

Alfred grabbed a handful of the chips, ignoring his brother's indignant outcry, eating them as he ran up the stairs to his room. He was so lucky that his parents were away so much, it let him get away with doing whatever he wanted until they got home. And he planned to take full advantage of that right now with a full-out gaming session. He had a small TV in his room and kept a couple of his gaming consoles in there too, so all he had to do was pop in a game as he was on a one-track ride to mindless zombie slaying – his favorite.

He played until it was almost time for him to head to bed – he knew from experience that if he stayed up too late, it was practically impossible for him to wake up in the morning. Besides, his parents would be home before too long. They'd had to work overtime, so Alfred and Mattie just ordered a pizza for dinner. This was a fairly regular occurrence, so they had gotten used to it.

He might as well get some of that homework done. Luckily he didn't have much, but he should still probably do it. It wouldn't take all that long.

* * *

By midnight, Alfred's parents were home and his homework was done. He'd already brushed his teeth and taken out his contacts, and now he was lying in bed, unable to sleep. He was surprised by this, usually after an intense gaming session like the one he'd just had, he was plenty ready to conk out as soon as his head hit his pillow. But Alfred was one of those people who got distracted really easily, and the trait had chosen a nasty time to pop up. So even though he kept trying to get himself to go to sleep, Alfred couldn't stop his mind from wandering and keeping him awake. And for whatever reason, his mind kept landing back on that British jerk. It was probably because Alfred was so annoyed by him, he just wanted to think of all kinds of ways to annoy him back, regardless of what Kiku had said.

Ah, who was he kidding. He was interested in the guy.

_No_, not like that, you creep! He only dated girls, for goodness sake, and only ones he knew well. No, it's just that, well, Alfred was curious by nature, and he really didn't know anything about the Brit, like where he came from, or why he'd transferred to this school. He was a mystery, and Alfred hated mysteries. But he loved to play the detective. _Alright_, he decided. _I'm gonna find out why this guy is avoiding Kiku and me._ Well, he got the feeling that the boy was avoiding _him_ because they'd collided twice now, but whatever. He was pointedly avoiding Kiku, and he'd ignored what Alfred was saying twice now. He had to have _some_ kind of reason for being so rude, and Alfred was going to find out what it was.

Of course, Alfred paid no heed to the fact that he was completely contradicting what he had said to Kiku earlier.

* * *

**Oh my, look at the length of this chapter. If they keep getting longer and longer at this rate, I might have some problems…**

**Well, this chapter is long for a reason. Think of it as an introduction to my AU which is why it's from Alfred's point of view. Sorry I had so many scene transitions and slight time skips, but I didn't want to make it even longer by describing each of the classes while it happened. I felt like a short summary at the end of each class worked out fine. But hey, if you readers want to see a chapter of a full(ish) class period, drop me a review and I'll see what I can do. I'm not planning to keep cutting them out entirely, because this is a **_**Gakuen**_** AU, so I've got to have some actual class scenes in there somewhere.**

**And before you ask, **_**yes**_**, my AU!Alfred has contacts. I chose to do this on purpose, and it **_**will**_** become a slightly important plot point later on. Trust me, I'm not just making all this up as I go along. …mostly.**

**I hope you guys liked this chapter, it was fun writing from Alfred's point of view. He's so crazy sometimes. How many of you were fooled and thought it was still from Arthur's POV at first?**

**To all the people who reviewed (****Luna at Midnight, MelodyOfStarshine, peacemakerwarfreak, Veldargone) thank you so much! Sorry I replied so slowly. And I noticed that I had anonymous reviews disabled, that's been fixed.**

**Oh yeah, disclaimers! Totally forgot about that in the other chapters! In case you couldn't tell, I do not own Hetalia, it's owned by Hidekaz Himaruya. I don't own **_**Adventures of Huckleberry Finn **_**either, that's owned by Mark Twain and all the companies that publish it.**


	4. Angst and Dreaming

The front door opened, then slammed shut. Loud footsteps could be heard coming from the hallway and going into the kitchen.

"Arthur!" Mint exclaimed. "You're home! How was _school_?" The sprite was intensely curious about how Arthur had faired at living a normal sort of life for once.

"It was bloody horrible," Arthur grunted, dropping his backpack at the bottom of the stairs and taking a seat at the table.

"What happened? It couldn't have been that bad."

Arthur sighed. "Mint… He's exactly the same," he whispered, dropping his head into his arms.

Mint didn't exactly have what most people would call tact, so she didn't get my Arthur was so down. "Isn't that what you wanted though? C'mon, Arthur, cheer up!"

"It's not that, it's…"

"…it's what?"

Arthur really didn't want to share the embarrassing events of the day. But he knew that he could not get the sprite to be silent any other way, and he knew, surprising as it was, that she was not the type to spread gossip. "Er… Well, we ran into each other. Twice."

Silence. Then—

"_Literally_? Ha, that's hilarious!" Mint exclaimed as Arthur growled at her. This was rather the reason that he had not wanted to say anything.

"It isn't really. It bloody hurt getting knocked down to the ground twice." Although as the personification of England, he had gotten used to much worse throughout the many wars his people had fought.

"So what happened? Did he go the gentleman route and be all nice about it, or was he the typical dunce he really is and act like it wasn't his fault?"

"The latter, of course." Arthur frowned. "It really was an accident both times, though very coincidentally, and he likely figured that it not being his fault meant that he did not need to be properly polite." He had _sort of_ apologized, at least the second time, but he had brushed it off so _quickly_. But what Arthur was really upset about wasn't Alfred's behavior about that, because in all actuality it was not really that big of a deal. He was just using it as a way to vent his true feelings, because even though Mint was a dear friend, he really just needed to muddle through them on his own at the moment.

Arthur was upset that Alfred did not know him at all, to be honest. He knew that he was being childish, and that there was no way that this Alfred could know him at all, but that rational side of him couldn't stop him from feeling this way. He tried to convince himself out of it anyway. Honestly, what had he expected? Had he really thought that this Alfred would somehow, deep down, realize that they had a connection in another world? The American never had believed in Arthur's magic, so it was very likely that the idea of other worlds actually existing had never occurred to him.

It had always been Alfred who was the idealist, Alfred who thought that everything would all somehow magically work itself out, despite his lack of belief in real magic. Arthur was supposed to be the realist, the pessimistic one, the one who believed in Murphy's Law fully. But now, Arthur felt that their roles as he knew them were being reversed by him being in this strange other world. After all, he knew he had little chance of actually accomplishing anything by conforming to this world as a teenager, but he had done so anyway. With a lot of help from Mint, of course. A _lot_ of help.

After the spell he'd used to get here had disappeared from the Book, Arthur did not even want to go back down to his basement for fear that he could do something else to damage it. Besides, he knew enough spells by heart that he did not truly need the Book. He only used it anymore for the really difficult spells - those with long incantations, or those that required complex recipes. Or, as had just been the case, those spells which he still had not tried. However, when it came to finding a way to get himself into a public school without arising rightful suspicion, he was at a loss. So he turned to Mint.

Unlike Arthur, the sprite had been raised in magic ever since she had been born, and her knowledge of at least the existence of specific spells far surpassed his own. His only source of spells had been the Book, and only once he had received it, but Mint had a full life's education in it by the masters. It was truly a pity that the Fay, by law, could not share this wealth of knowledge with any human. Ah, the things he could learn!

But even if she could not tell Arthur how to cast the many spells that he did not know, that did not hinder her from doing them herself. The Fay had a different approach to doing magic than humans did, so even if the British magician memorized everything she did, he could never replicate the spell. With her assistance and guidance, Arthur wove a complex magic that would allow him to completely blend in to this world without anybody of importance wondering where he had come from or, hopefully, any other abnormal things about him. Having been in this world for not even a full day when he had formed this magic, Arthur did not even know if the street name that his house was on was the same as in his own world. However, when he tried to find out just where exactly he was, he was amazed to learn that he had somehow ended up in America.

Of course, the first thought that came into his mind was that the cars would be driving on the _bloody wrong side of the road_. It was only then that it hit him that having the physical appearance of a teenager meant that he wouldn't be able to drive at all. How would he get from place to place? He couldn't walk everywhere; it would take too long, and besides that, he didn't know where anything _was_ in this world. Honestly, this spell was proving to be very inconvenient. One would think that it could have tossed a map in or something at least. It was certainly a good thing that he was in a more modern age than when the spell had been created, because this day and age had computers, and computers meant the internet.

Arthur had already spent several hours just surfing the internet, though it was very uncharacteristic of him. But he was searching for clues, anything that might bring more sense to him of the inner differences between this world and his own. It seemed like politically, at least, everything was the same, though there was the noted absence of country personifications. In his world, all of his citizens had known who he was, and even many people outside his borders and recognized him. But now, he would have to deal with being a complete stranger to everybody. Well, at least this world didn't have a "replacement" for him. That might have been more than he could have handled. He simply could not imagine being anything other than England, and he grew angry at just the thought of somebody trying to take away his very being.

Goodness, he felt like he was going mad. His thoughts had no clear pattern, and random tangents kept begging to be chased in his mind. His analytical side supposed that he was still in shock from the sudden switch in worlds that had just occurred to him. Honestly, this was madness! This type of spell-gone-wrong madness happened only in books, not in real life!

He had to give his brain _some_ sort of constructive thing to concentrate on, or he'd just keep rambling on like this. He wished he could go down to his basement and just practice spells for hours, but he still did not want to dare going down there, in case whatever force that had erased the spell from the Book was still at work. There was no telling if it had been a onetime thing or if it was a lasting effect from some foreign source. He supposed that he could try scrying to chase the mischievous back to its origin, but even that magic could possibly expose the book to even more damage. He really was regretting casting this stupid spell. It seemed like more of something to mess up one's life rather than helping one reconnect with people.

But the thing was, Arthur couldn't really deny that the spell had worked, and worked all too well. He had gone to school, like his situation had demanded of him – while he had cast his cloaking magic, he had managed to sneak himself into the school system as well. And at said school, Hetalia Academy, within minutes of arriving he had managed to meet the one person whom he had both been hoping to meet and to avoid. Or not "meet," exactly. More like "collide with." It really had been bloody embarrassing. He himself had apologized first, since he was a proper gentleman and had not known whom he had run into at the time. But then he had seen that face shine up at him, a face he had not properly seen in a long time.

The Alfred of this world seemed so much like his own Alfred, the one he knew so well. They had the same hair, the same face, the same voice, the same mannerisms, the same annoying way of being able to shake problems off so easily. But there was one difference that Arthur had not expected and would not be of substantial interest to anybody else, yet it was one that made all the difference in the world to him. This Alfred did not wear glasses. Most of the other countries back in Arthur's own world were used to seeing the American with his glasses. But Arthur had raised his Alfred since he was a very little boy, and he had been with him almost constantly. The face that he had gotten used to seeing from the boy was his own pure face, full of hopes and dreams and neither clouded not shielded by anything. Sadly, it was also the face that had glared at him in defiance and utter outrage during the Revolution. Arthur had secretly been almost glad when Alfred had gained Texas and donned the glasses that he had worn almost ever since. It was amazing the difference that glasses could do to a face. In a way, they were what had helped him to stop mourning over the loss of his precious colony.

But now, it was like he had been abruptly shoved back into those days from so long ago. Was this what the spell did? Took what were both the worst and the most precious memories from him and forced him to deal with them? If Arthur had been thinking more logically and anybody else had been the one in this situation, he would have immediately seen the sense in it, but as it was, it just seemed cruel.

…and look, once more his mind was wandering into things that he really would rather not linger on right now. He was always like this when he got depressed; his thoughts would just keep escalating and escalating into more and more dismal of thoughts until before he knew it he was drunk and unconscious. And in this world, and having the appearance of a teenager, he really did _not_ want to know what could happen to him if he got drunk and decided to leave the house. So he needed to find something to do _now_, before the vicious cycle dug a deeper hold onto him.

He could make himself a cup of tea. Or he could talk with Mint – wait, where was Mint, anyway? Apparently, she had floated off somewhere while he had been stupidly wallowing in despair. So much for all those fancy words about how she wanted to help support him while he was stuck under this curse of a spell. Oh well, he supposed that finding the sprite would give him something to do besides sit and mope around.

"Mint?" Arthur called, getting up from the table. "Where did you fly off to?"

He heard a muffled tinkling sound coming from upstairs. Frowning, he went to the bottom of the stairs and called out again. "Mint? Are you up there?" More tinkling, and what sounded like heavy objects being moved around. Frowning, he started climbing up the stairway.

Following the noises he heard (which was more of a feat that it sounds, since for whatever reason his house always had somewhat of a maze of an upper level), Arthur found himself in front of his closed bedroom door which, he discovered shortly, had been locked.

He rapped on the door. "Mint! I know you're in there, open up!" He was starting to get a little worried about what she could be doing that she would sneak away and lock his door. The sprite was well-known for both her spontaneity and her love of surprising people. However, both of these traits tended to lead to catastrophe. Given that, Arthur figured that he ought to get her out of his bedroom as soon as possible, or find out what she was doing at the very least.

The door wouldn't budge, and Mint apparently had very selective hearing at the moment. Swearing to himself, Arthur racked his brains for a spell to unlock the stupid door. When he remembered one and angrily recited it under his breath, the whole doorknob sizzled and fell off. Well. He certainly hadn't expected that strong of a reaction from such a simple unlocking spell, but then again, he'd always had trouble keeping his power in check when he was upset.

He swung open the door - very easily now. "Mint, just what are you up to in..." he trailed off as he stared at his bedroom in horror.

The busy little sprite looked over her shoulder at the gaping Brit in surprise. "Ah, darn it Arthur, you weren't suppose to see until I was done!" she squealed. She flew over to him, making a poor attempt to hide from him the modifications that she had made to the room.

Arthur impatiently brushed the sprite away, barely remembering to be gentle because of her size. "What on earth did you do to my room!" he yelled. This was going beyond her usual pranks. What the heck had made her think she had the right to do this?

"But, but, but Arthur!" the sprite whined, "I figured if you're going to blend in here, you're going to need to do it all the way! What if someone comes in here, wouldn't they get suspicious?"

Arthur rubbed his temples. He really, _really_ hated it when she had a good excuse for things. It made it so bloody hard for him to argue his way out of it. "It's not as if I were planning on bringing anyone back here."

"But didn't you say you were going to try to fit into this world as long as you were here? Isn't that why you snuck into the school and used your super ninja spy skills to act normally any everything?"

"Mint," Arthur replied, gritting his teeth. "I will _attempt_ to blend into this world, but I do _not_ plan on getting used to it here."

Mint was terribly confused. "Then why the heck did you even cast that spell in the first place?"

"I didn't think it would be anything like..._this_," he hissed. A whole year? In a body like this? With...with an Alfred like that? Encountering the American like that every day was just going to be unbearingly painful. But...he was acting foolish at the moment, he knew that.

Calming down, he said, "Look... Quite honestly, I _don't_ know why I cast that spell, alright? All I wanted was to be able to go back to that old relationship we had. He was... He was like my son, my little brother, and my best friend all rolled into one. I tried my best to keep that, but then he went and had that stupid _Revolution_, and I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. Don't you _see_, Mint? So I _can't_ stay here and act like everything's normal. You said this spell lasts for a whole year? What happens if, in that time, I get attached to something here? I wouldn't even be able to come back if I wanted to, the spell bloody disappeared from the Book." As Arthur finished his outburst, he sunk to the ground and buried his face in his knees, as getting everything off his chest at one had drained all of the strength from him.

"I-I..." Mint stuttered. She swallowed and blinked her eyes, two things she did excessively whenever she was nervous. "I'm sorry, England, I really am!" she burst out quickly and flew hastily out of the room.

Arthur sat there, stunned, looking at the open door. Mint _never_ called him just by his official country name. Heck, most of the other countries referred to each other by their human names on regular basis. Country names were only used during meetings or when being very formal. Darn it. If Mint of all people were acting like this, he really must have hurt her just now. How did he _always_ manage to mess up relationships like this? It was no wonder he was always alone, really. Probably no one could even stand being near him.

He sat wallowing in his stupidity for a few minutes, then, sighing, got up to survey the damage that Mint had managed to inflict on his room. Honestly, that girl. She knew he'd liked this style when he was younger, but nowadays he found it rather scandalous. He hadn't been into the punk style for years – centuries, in fact. And who actually would have this style these days, anyways? Yeah, he would admit that he still sort of liked it, but he was a proper gentleman now, and gentlemen did not parade around in punkish fashion. Even in another world, he still had his dignity.

Mint, however, had different plans for him. She had completely redone his room – his bed, his desk, his other furniture. Heck, she'd even ruined his walls; she'd plastered them over with all kinds of posters. Arthur walked over to his closet, fearing the worst. If she had changed his room, that was one thing, but if she had messed with his clothes, he wouldn't even be able to leave the house anymore. But it seemed that Arthur had luckily come in at just the right moment. His clothes were untouched. Thank goodness for that, at least.

Satisfied that his life wasn't _completely_ ruined for the moment, Arthur went over to his bed and sat down. So now what? He had practically blamed Mint for everything that had gone wrong, even though she'd had nothing to do with it, and she was only trying to help him. He was just so frustrated with this whole situation that he hadn't bothered to think.

Arthur was both mentally and physically drained. His constant run-ins with Alfred that day had boosted up his adrenaline immensely, though he luckily had enough self-control to not act too strangely. And now there was this whole stupid mess with Mint. He really wished that life just had a pause button or something so that he could take a break from all this madness. He briefly recalled that he probably had a spell to accomplish that, but he quickly brushed the thought aside. He didn't want to mess this up further with more magic for once.

No, when he really thought about it, he just wanted to sleep. Maybe this whole thing was really just a dream, and when he woke up, everything would be back to normal. All he wanted was to go back to his normal life, back where he actually knew what was going on, and where the actual countries were, not these people who just seemed like copies. Even if it was convincing, that's what he had to keep repeating to himself. If he allowed himself to delve deeper into this world, he didn't know if he'd ever be able to bear to bring himself out again. He would never admit it to anybody, but this world just seemed too good to be true, to be honest. A chance to start again, to _really_ start again, with _everybody_.

…he didn't really want to keep thinking about this. He had to just focus on getting back. He had to dwell on the past, like he always did, not just forget about it and move on.

Not even bothering to take off his clothes, Arthur laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. _Maybe just a little nap_, he thought, slowly drifting off. _A little rest…is all…I need…_

* * *

_He was in a field. He was standing on a knoll of dried straw-like grass in the midst of a wide expanse of wildflowers that were gold, red, green, purple, orange. Tall evergreen trees rimmed the wide area, isolating the place from everything around it. The sun was just about to touch the horizon, and it was casting a golden glow on everything it touched._

_After the initial sights, the landscape made its mark on the other senses. The birds chirped their melodies as they flitted from tree to tree, and butterflies drifted lazily about and in between the flowers. He breathed in deeply. The flowers – in fact, the whole meadow – gave off a warm, comforting scent, powerful and gentle at the same time, like a woman softly singing a lullaby to her slowly nodding off child._

_For a moment, he just stood there, admiring the view. It was beautiful, truly. It was a land of wonder, a land of possibilities. It was the ideal place to relax from all the turmoil that was happening back home. And what made it all the better was –_

"_Arthur!" a voice cried from behind him._

_He turned around, already knowing whom he would see._

_A small figure, a very young boy in a pure white gown, ran toward him, tackling his leg as soon as the distance between them was small enough. "I missed you, Arthur! It's been so long! Why did you take so long to come back?" Tears were starting to form in the corners of the boy's eyes._

_He chuckled, bending down to pat the young boy's head. "I told you I'd be back, Alfred. You didn't have to worry. I'm not going to leave you forever."_

"_But you were gone for so long this time! I missed you so much!"_

_He lifted the small boy up and held him in his arms. "Don't worry, lad. I'll always be around for you. I'll always protect you." _Always_, he though fiercely. Nobody was going to take this child from him._

_The scene changed. They were in a house now, an old looking home made of logs, furnished sparsely but neatly. He and the boy were sitting at a table together, eating a meal. The boy was older now, and instead of the pure white gown, he wore a simple cloth shirt with an open vest, and pants that were starting to look slightly worn. He was eating his food happily, and next to his plate, there were several familiar looking handmade toy soldiers._

_The boy looked at him suddenly, beaming brightly enough to chase away any storm. "Hey, Arthur?"_

_He smiled back kindly. "What is it, Alfred?"_

"_When I get to be as big as you, do you think I'll be as cool and fun as you too?"_

_This took him by surprise. "W-well," he started, rubbing his hand backwards through his hair and laughing nervously. "When you get older, you get to be whoever you want to be. You are the one who decides who you will grow up to be."_

_The boy continued to stare at him with those large, innocent eyes. "Arthur, I want to be just like you when I get older! I want to be just like my big brother! That way, we'll never have to argue or anything, and we can be together forever!"_

_Something melted inside of him. "I'm sure you'll be the best little brother in the world," he assured the boy._

_Again, the scene shifted. It was back in the field again, only this time the flowers had all withered away and the sky was stormy and overcast. The bitter wind tore at the group of soldiers the boy who stood in front of him. No, he couldn't call him a boy anymore. He was a man now, and he stood tall and straight, determination shining through every fiber of his being. The clouds had been threatening to burst, and now they did, sending gallons of waters pouring over their heads, soaking the area within minutes._

_Still, the staring contest continued. Neither he nor the man was willing to make the first move. Finally, the man spoke._

"_Hey… England," the man called, voice full of resolve and removed of fear, though it was so clear to him, the one who raised him, how shaken he was at the moment. "I've decided. I…I can't live with this anymore. I want freedom!" The last word practically tore itself out of the man's throat as he tightened his grip on his gun._

_He looked on in torment as the man continued his tirade. "I can't handle this anymore! Why do you refuse to acknowledge me as my own nation? I don't want to be bound to you anymore!" The man's eyes blazed with steely hardness. "I'm not your little brother, England!" he shrieked._

_No. No no no. Not this. __Anything but this. Everybody was leaving him. Not Alfred too. Not after all this time. He couldn't lose him, not now. He couldn't be alone again!_

_If his little brother wouldn't stay with him willingly, he would stay with him by force._

_Hardly knowing what he was doing, he rushed through the mud at the man, taking him by surprise. Burning with anger and adrenaline, he shoved the bayonet on his gun at the man, but he was thwarted when the man brought his own gun up like a shield, barely in time to block the attack. Seething, he used his gun as a lever and flung the other man's gun into the air, making it land several yards out of reach. Fear filled the man's eyes as he realized the situation he was in._

"_You naïve fool!" he hissed at the man, who was staring at him in disbelief. "Did you really think that you could just get away with whatever you wanted?" But the man didn't make a move to get away, even with a gun cocked and pointed at his heart, just continued to stare with that stupid blank look of his._

_He slowly began to pull the trigger, but suddenly his hands began to shake. And still, those pure blue eyes continued to beat down upon his face, full of fear and disbelief that he could be cornered in such a way. Disgusted, he threw away his own gun and sunk into the mud. "You utter fool," he whispered, focusing only on the ground under his face., his hands slowly forming fists and becoming limp again. "Did you really think I would..." He couldn't do it. Why? "Why? Darn it... Why is it..."_

_As his tears blended with the rain that continued to pour down from the sky, the man continued to do naught but stare at him in shock. And then he whispered down to him, his voice barely raising above the din of the rainfall._

_"You...were so big once, England... Arthur..."_

* * *

"A-Arthur?"

Mint peered inside the bedroom door. She knew that he had been asleep earlier, and though she had wanted to apologize for what she had done, she had waited until he was for sure awake. After waiting for several hours outside the dark room, Mint had gone downstairs for a while, but when she had come back up to check on him again, she had seen the door ajar and a lamp on inside.

"Arthur," she repeated. "I'm sorry, I really am. I should've asked, I didn't mean to..." She stopped speaking as she noticed just what he was doing.

He had his school books open on the desk in front of him. And he was doing homework. Even though he had just snapped at her about not wanting to conform to this world.

"Arthur?" she asked, her eyes widening as she flew to his shoulder.

He turned and looked at her, and though he gave a small smile, his eyes were sad. "I've decided, Mint. Even though I know this will hurt me later, I'm tired of pursuing people I've hurt too much in the past. I can't live like that anymore. This way… It really is a fresh start, I suppose. For once…I just want to be able to move on. Maybe this will give me that kick in the behind that I'm only just now realizing that I need."

Mint was relieved. She knew that due to the Fay law she wasn't allowed to tell Arthur too much about the inner workings of the spell that he cast on himself, but it had still hurt her to see him suffer like this when she knew the deeper meaning behind all of it. But now, he had finally figured the true blessing of it out on his own.

This truly was a chance for him to start over. Not just make amends, but to honestly have another chance at life, without forever just trying to fix whatever he thought he'd messed up in history.

Mint floated up to Arthur's head and settled herself in his hair, content. Maybe now her greatest friend could find the bit of happiness that he had chased for centuries, even if only for a little while.

* * *

**Oooooooh wow. Sorry for all that angst there, guys! It's hard to get a stubborn, moody character like Arthur to accept living in a new world without it seeming too convenient or anything. But I think I've got most of his brooding packed away now, so the story should start getting a lot less depressing now!**

**And if I ever go all OOC or anything, please please **_**please**_** tell me, because I'm trying to stick to actual character personalities as much as possible.**

**Thanks for all the favorites and story alerts, guys! And thanks especially to everyone who's reviewed! The more reviews the better! More reviews mean faster chapters!**


	5. New Friends and Hamburgers

_Today he was going to do a better job. Today would be the real beginning. Today would start it all._

* * *

Alfred walked confidently towards his first period class with a bit of a smug smile on his face. He had spent a good part of the night before working on a devious plan to figure out just what the heck was up with that new British kid. And just this morning, he'd met with Kiku early to share it with him. Of course, his friend had made some improvements to it, but he'd still agreed that it was awesome.

Alfred's curiosity had always been one of his weakest, though perhaps also strongest, points of his character. And this new kid was bugging the heck out of him. He was this big mystery, and Alfred was itching to figure out more about him. But it wasn't like he was interested in him as a friend or anything. Psh, the Brit was too big a jerk for that. He just wanted to get rid of this nagging sensation that there was some really interesting story behind the guy. Yeah, that was it. Plus, if it turned out that he was hiding some really big evil secret, then Alfred could totally be the hero and save everyone. Oh yeah, that'd be tight. Girls digged the hero types.

His thoughts traveled back to the super-duper plan that he had thought up. Kiku would probably be starting it right about now. Even though it sucked for the most part, their widely differing class schedules were actually coming in handy right now, because it gave them more time throughout the day to enact the Master Plan. Basically, the idea was to force the new kid to talk to them, get him to loosen up a little. Then they could start drilling him for information later on. Alfred would be doing all the interrogation business, so Kiku's only job was really just to act like his normal polite self to the Brit. The plan was pretty simple, actually. Most of Alfred's "planning" the night before had just been him imagining all the stuff that the kid could be hiding.

Alfred came to his Spanish classroom and sat down next to his friend Antonio, who was already bugging Lovino. "Lovi~! You are coming over to my house after school today, right?"

The Italian in question blushed furiously. "Jerk, you don't have to announce it to everybody!"

"Aw, what's wrong Lovi? I just wanted to make sure you're still coming!"

Alfred snickered. "What're you two meeting for?" he asked.

Antonio beamed at the American. "We're going to pick tomatoes in my garden! Lovi loves tomatoes!"

Lovino looked positively murderous. Though for him, that was pretty normal, especially in reference to the Spaniard. "Shut up already! Geez!"

"Aw, Lovi, you look just like a tomato yourself right now! Ahaha~!" Alfred always had been amazed at how easily the Spaniard angered Lovino. It was probably lucky for Antonio's life that the school rumors of the real relationship between those two apparently hadn't reached the Italian's ears yet.

Though really, the two of them made for a good first period class. He wondered how Kiku was doing right now.

* * *

Kiku was feeling nervous, to be honest. He was often nervous in general, but today he was especially so. He tried to always be quiet and polite, as he had adopted from his Japanese upbringing, but being friends with such a loud and brash character as Alfred F. Jones often made the latter difficult, since the boy often just plain needed some harsh words to keep him from destroying the school. But now his friend had requested his help in other one of his "plans." Kiku enjoyed being friends with the boy, since he was always interesting and was certainly loyal, but when it came to his spontaneous ideas, Kiku often preferred to stay out of them for the sake of his own personal record. Alfred may not have taken school very seriously, but Kiku was determined to stay out of trouble.

This new plan of his, however, certainly appeared to be benign enough. It seemed that Kiku's words from the day before actually had affected the American. Alfred said now that he simply wanted to find out more about the new British student, Arthur Kirkland, though Kiku doubted that his friend did not have other hidden intentions behind this. However, he was curious about Arthur as well, which was strange for him, seeing as he often tried to avoid meeting new people. But because of this curiosity, he had agreed to assist Alfred in this plan. Surely even the American could not have anything too bad in store for the boy. He hoped.

Kiku's first class of the day was Biology, and he happened to have been assigned Arthur as a lab partner. The teacher, Mr. Jolapu, had informed the class that today would be somewhat of a class bonding day, and so everybody had to work with their partners to complete a series of tasks given to them.

Alright, he decided, preparing himself to actually talk to somebody today. He turned to Arthur, who sat right next to him. "A-ah, hello," he stammered. "H-how are you doing today?" How did Alfred handle things like this all of the time? He already felt like a ball of frizzed nerves! That was the expression, was it not? Oh dear.

But despite Kiku's inner demons of confusion, the Brit reacted smoothly. "I am doing well, thank you. And you?"

Kiku blinked in surprise. The boy's personality appeared to be completely different from the day before. "I am doing well, too," he replied politely.

"Well then, shouldn't we get on this worksheet? We don't want to waste too much time."

"Y-yes, of course." Well, it seemed that it would be easier to be of assistance to Alfred after all, if the new student was going to be as sociable as this now. Arthur seemed to have had a complete personality makeover from the day before. It was a relief to him, personally. Trying to reach out to people was not his forte. He preferred to quietly follow what others were doing.

And Arthur seemed perfectly willing to take the leader position, of sorts. "It looks like we've got a bit of a pop quiz here." He frowned. "Do you know anything about Eukaryotic cells? I _did_ know, but it seems to have completely escaped me at the moment."

Kiku looked at the question on his own worksheet. "Ah, I believe the answer is that they have organelles, while Prokaryotic cells do not." Oh dear. He felt like he had said that in the wrong manner. Should he have instead pretended to puzzle it out as well? Or was simply stating the answer the right thing to do after all?

"Oh, is that it? I remember now, that makes sense."

The Japanese boy sighed inwardly in relief. This talking to people business really was stressful, especially when his goal was to make a new friend. It was not just for Alfred that he was doing this for, either – he sincerely wished to get to know this new student better. But because he was very inexperienced, he was very afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing.

Arthur was mumbling something down at the paper as he tapped his pencil against the desk. "Ah, sorry, could you please speak up? I am afraid I did not hear you," Kiku asked. He was worried that he was being too forward by asking this, but if Arthur was asking him a question, he did not want to look like he was ignoring the boy.

The boy looked up and stopped tapping his pencil. "Oh, it's nothing really. I was just talking to myself. Or, well… Some of these problems are a review from Chemistry, and I, er, never took that class. In my, er, old school, the cycle of science classes was a little different."

Kiku was surprised. He had been under the impression that most schools operated under the same rotation – Physics, then Chemistry, then Biology. How far away had Arthur come from? "I see," he said, cautiously. He was curious, but he did not want to nose into the boy's business. However, this was a good chance to learn more about him, and Alfred _had_ strongly suggested to him many times that learning about other people was a good way to make friends. Alright, he was going to take this chance. "Please pardon me for asking, but where did you go to school before? I have not heard of any schools in this area that offered a different rotation of science classes."

"Er, that is…" The boy seemed flustered.

Oh no, had he gone too far? "E-excuse me, that was inappropriate for me to ask. Please forget I asked," Kiku said quickly.

"No, no, it's fine. I, er, I lived in England before." For some reason, the boy seemed embarrassed by this fact, and he looked away quickly.

Thank goodness, it seemed that Arthur did not hate him for being too forward. Kiku relaxed slightly, comforted by the fact that he seemed to be doing well so far. "England? That is very far away. What made your family decide to move to America?"

That was a poor decision. Arthur instantly tensed up. "Er, I'd prefer to not discuss that at the moment, if that's fine with you." His words sounded more forced than they had before, as if Kiku had bridged on a touchy subject. "Shall we get back to the task at hand? We ought to try and get as much of this worksheet done as we can."

Kiku's eyes widened. "I apologize for my rude behavior," he said, somehow managing to bow deeply while still sitting at his desk. "Please pardon me, I went too far."

Arthur's gaze softened. "No, it's fine, really. I just would rather not talk about it for the time being."

"I understand," Kiku replied, though his behavior remained like that of a whipped dog. He should not have followed Alfred's advice so far. Now the boy whom he had hoped to make friends with most likely hated him. And things had been so much nicer seeming between the two of them than yesterday, too.

For the rest of the period, Kiku and Arthur worked together on the long worksheet. They did continue with light conversation, but both of them firmly made sure that the topic did not again stray into either of their personal lives.

_To borrow one of Alfred's phrases, I would say that that was a bust_, Kiku thought as the bell rang to signal the end of the period. But as he finished gathering his papers and started to leave for his next period, he heard Arthur call out behind him: "Wait!"

Kiku waited at the doorway, and he saw Arthur hurrying to pack his bag. He was rather astonished that the boy would call out for him after going through such an awkward moment, but he did not let the emotion show plainly on his face.

Arthur finished packing his own papers and went to catch up to the Japanese boy. "Er, well, we have the same class next period, don't we? We might as well walk over together. Have a bit of company and all that." Though his voice stayed level, he face flushed slightly, and in a flash of insight, Kiku understood that the British boy was feeling every bit as awkward as himself.

Kiku simply nodded, pleased that he had not done so badly at attempting to make a new friend as he had thought.

* * *

"Kikuuuuu!"

The person in question was suddenly attacked from behind.

"A-Alfred-san! Please, control yourself!" Kiku exclaimed as he tried to disentangle himself from the American's grasp.

"Aw, c'mon, I was just having fun! We're friends, right? Friends do that kind of thing all the time!"

"Regardless, I ask of you to refrain from doing that to me!" Kiku's face was fully flustered. "With a cousin like mine, I can only handle so much!"

"Cousin? Oh, you mean that Yong Soo guy?" Finally realizing his friend's discomfort, Alfred released him from his hold. "Sorry dude, I wasn't thinking, I guess." Yeah, no wonder Kiku'd reacted weirdly just now. You would too if you had a cousin who grabbed at your chest every chance he got, even if he knew very well that you were a boy. That guy was just weird.

Kiku was still looking kind of freaked out, but he calmed down quickly. "Yes, that is who I meant. But I apologize, I did not mean to yell at you. That was impolite of me."

"Kiku, dude, it's cool. You should loosen up more! You don't need to apologize so much. Anyways," he said, his voice lowering to a dull roar as he sat down at a nearby table, "so how did your super secret ninja mission go?"

The Japanese boy sat down across from him and looked up with a blank stare that all too plainly said _What?_

"You know, my plan! From this morning!" Even with Kiku lacking in his enthusiasm, Alfred was undaunted.

Comprehension filled Kiku's eyes. "Ah, well, I am not sure how to answer that question. I did not feel comfortable asking Arthur-san about his personal life, but we did get along well. He appears to be in a much better mood today than yesterday"

"That's cool and all, but…" Alfred pouted. "Didn't you learn anything? Like, anything that'd prove that he's actually some really evil guy who's trying the brainwash the student body by pouring mind-control juice into the cafeteria food or something?"

Kiku immediately shook his head in protest. "No, nothing like that. He appears to be perfectly normal, Alfred-san."

"Aw, that sucks. So what _did_ he talk about?"

"We were busy with the class assignment, so we did not get a chance to talk much," Kiku said carefully. "But he did mention a couple of things. There was nothing of much importance, however."

"Hey, for spies, all information is good information! Spill what you collected, agent Honda! …tell me what he said!" he added, seeing his friend's eyes cloud over with confusion again.

"He said that he was raised in England, but then he moved to America, most likely not too long ago. I learned this because his science background was different from ours; the rotation of Physics, Chemistry, and Biology was different for him over there," Kiku explained.

Alfred looked slightly crestfallen. He had expected _something_ more, at least. He didn't know _what_ he'd been expecting exactly, but something interesting, in any case. "Is that all you guys talked about?" he asked. "Seems like a pretty boring conversation."

"I did not want to continue it after that, because I made the foolish mistake of asking Arthur-san why his family had moved, and he grew uncomfortable and asked to stop."

The American leaned forward. Now _this_ was something interesting! So the Brit was hiding something about his family, was he? "Awesome!" he yelled out, his face breaking out into a grin.

At a nearby table, an affronted self-proclaimed Prussian's face twisted. "Oi, Alfred! That's my word, you can't use its awesomeness so lightly!" Gilbert called. Next to him, his brother applied his hand to his forehead in a motion that seemed far too well practiced.

Alfred turned his giant grin at the two of them, then turned back to Kiku. "Alright, I can definitely get something more out of him, just watch me!" he said confidently, his voice settling back down to what amounted to a normal speaking voice for the American.

"Alfred-san, please excuse me, but I don't think that's such a good—"

"Don't worry, Kiku! It's my responsibility to protect the school, since I'm the hero and all, so I've gotta look into this guy, right? There's no way he _isn't_ hiding some big secret, the way he's acting!"

"Yes, but that does not mean we should pry—"

"But he could be a spy or something! We've gotta check him out!"

Kiku sighed to himself. Sometimes, there was just no use talking to Alfred. Not when he was in his "hero mode," anyways. When he got interested in something, he got downright obsessed with it. He really should not have agreed to assist the American, in retrospect. Though they had barely met, Arthur seemed to be a fairly nice person, and Kiku did not want Alfred to damage the boy's chances of continuing to bud out.

Alfred chose to take his friends silence as affirmation that he was right. "See? Ok, so here's the plan for the rest of the day. I'll try and—"

He suddenly broke off and started making frantic hand signals to Kiku, who watched, confused. Before he could figure out what the American was doing, he was tackled from behind for the second time that morning.

"Cousin!"

Talk about speaking of the devil. It was like the Korean had some sensor for his name popping up in conversation, even if they had long since moved on from the topic of him.

"Y-Yong Soo! Please get off of me!" Kiku pleaded faintly.

"But cousin! Our next class is together! We should walk with each other! Cousins should stick together, da ze!" He sounded innocent enough, but Yong Soo's hands were quickly approaching a not-altogether-appropriate place on Kiku, as they too often did. "And your breasts belong to me, so the rest of you should come with me too, da ze!"

Kiku looked beseechingly at Alfred as his Korean relative dragged him off. Alfred couldn't really do anything, though. He wasn't crazy enough to get mixed up with that weirdo and get _his_ "breasts" seized as well. Instead, he flashed his friend an apologetic look as he grabbed his bag and headed over to his next class, since the bell was about to ring anyways. "Sorry, Kiku! Meet me here after school, 'kay? I'll share the results of my awesome plan of awesomeness with you then!" he called.

Alfred heard Gilbert groan in mock protest again, but he just chose to ignore him.

* * *

Arthur spent his break period a little differently. He didn't really have anyone to talk to, of course, but even if he had, he had a bit of an issue at the moment that took greater priority. He had done well hiding it during his classes, but it needed to be confronted before anything _could_ happen. As soon as his English class ended and break began, he quickly went for the most secluded area he could find, in this case being behind a bunch of bushes next to the gym. It was a fairly good hiding spot, actually. There was a bit of a hollow in the middle of the shrubbery, like a cave of sorts. He made a note of the exact location in case he needed to use it again later.

But back to the matter at hand. He turned to face the figure he'd known had been following him all day so far. "_Mint_," he hissed in a low voice. "Just what do you mean by coming here?"

Mint was obviously not surprised to have been caught. She immediately put her hands on her hips and pouted. "But it'd be so boring to just stay around home all day, every day! Watching you at school sounds so much more interesting!"

"Mint, I don't care, you really can't be here! People will see you!"

The sprite made an exasperated sound. "Arthur, you know you're practically the only human who actually pays attention to the Fay anymore. And like I said before, there aren't many of us who ever actually come to this world in the first place, so I doubt that many people even believe in us here, much less be able to see me. It's _fine_."

"But _I_ see you! And you're bloody distracting!"

"W-what? How so? I was even trying to stay out of your way so you wouldn't notice me!"

"You've been constantly flitting around the classroom like a manic, making comments on practically every other thing anybody said, and I've been constantly worried that you'd bump into something or make some other kind of huge mess. Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice you at all?"

"…"

They both knew that there wasn't really anything Mint could say to that. It was hard to deny something that was so blatantly the truth.

…but the awkward silence was starting to get to them.

Arthur sighed. "Look, I'm fine with you being out of the house during the day, since there really isn't much I can do about that anyways, and it would be unfair to keep you cooped up. But _please_, stop going so crazy. Couldn't you at least go in some other classrooms?"

"But it's more fun to watch you," Mint stated plainly.

"Mint…"

"I'll be super quiet from now on! You won't even notice I'm there! I promise!"

That was a big fat lie and they both knew it. But Arthur supposed that he could just ignore her like he had been before. His spy work in the past was really coming in handy for being able to constantly play it cool. And hopefully she would calm down a little, at least, since she knew he'd be watching her.

"Fine. But be _quiet_, alright?"

"Woo!" The sprite flew in loops around the enclosed space in celebration.

"Mint, that is exactly what you just said you would not do."

"Oh come on, this isn't the classroom! Nobody can see us in here, and it's not like I'm distracting you from anything."

Arthur heard the school bell ringing in the distance. "Well, now I _am_ going to be in a classroom, so you might as well calm down now!" he said, picking up his bag and quickly crawling out from the hideaway. Once out, he stood up and dusted himself off, not that he'd really gotten dirty. He looked back at Mint, who was lingering next to the bushes still. "Well, come on. Or do you not want to come anymore? I'm still perfectly willing to change my mind."

"No, no, I'm coming!" Mint replied hastily. She flew up and sat on his shoulder, and Arthur hurried to his next class.

* * *

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Gaaaaaah.

Gah.

It was only Alfred's second day of having English with the creepy Russian kid, Ivan, but it was seriously creeping him out. Somehow, the psycho managed to sit _behind_ _him_ that day.

Do. Not. Want.

He was seriously starting to consider requesting a schedule change. If only the office would accept "I don't want to be in the same room as a crazy psychopathic Russian for an hour every day" as a good reason to change classes. Because in his mind, it was certainly a very good and logical reason.

At least it was lunch time! And today he'd brought hamburgers! Oh frabjous day!

…shut up. Jabberwocky was an awesome poem. It beat the pants out of any of those dusty old poems by other English authors that he had to read for his Literature class last year. Speaking of English...wasn't that the British kid over there? Aha, a chance! Alfred hadn't known that the boy had the same lunch as him. He'd been trying to figure out how to talk to the guy during their classes together, but this would be much easier!

Alfred started to walk over to the Brit, but stopped when he noticed something odd. Was the guy seriously talking to himself? Yeah, the guy obviously didn't have any friends yet, but still, this was weird. He was alone at his table, and he was all hunched over like he didn't want anyone to see what he was doing. That alone was pretty weird, because it seemed like the guy had the best posture Alfred had ever seen.

Time to do some super secret spy work!

Alfred tried to be all ninja and sneak up on the Brit. Of course, he couldn't really approach from this angle, since he was right in the guy's line of sight, so he had to first sneak around the long way so he would be in the Brit's blind spot. He…may have stumbled over one or two chairs on his way and emitted a few swears and sharp cries of pain, but he was sure his target wouldn't notice. He was too ninja for that.

But when he finally made his way around and was "sneaking" up on the Brit, he was disappointed to find that the boy had already finished up with whatever it was he was trying to hide, and was back to sitting up straight.

Oh well, he could still talk to him. And besides that, he was getting hungry. He might as well sit next to him and eat already. The hamburger was calling him! It looked like the Brit still hadn't noticed him, so he smoothly walked up behind him and, taking the seat next to him, sat down.

The boy looked up, and his face morphed through a series of emotions – surprised, confused, annoyed – and settled on a scowl. He scowled a lot, Alfred noticed. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Well, I'm hungry, and nobody else is at this table. It's kinda rude to hog this table all to yourself, you know," Alfred said cheerfully, a grin plastered on his face.

"But there _are_ plenty of other tables. Surely you could find somebody else to sit with." The scowl deepened.

"Um… What, do you _want_ to sit alone? I was just trying to be nice to the new kid," Alfred shot back defensively. That was a total lie though. He wasn't doing this to be nice, exactly. He just wanted to pump the kid for information so he could save the school from evil! Hero to the rescue!

"Maybe I do," the Brit said simply.

"Too late, I'm hungry. I'm eating." With that, he pulled his lunch from his bag and started chowing down. He noticed the pained look that appeared on the Brit's face. "What, you don't like hamburgers?" he asked, astounded.

"Why would I like such disgusting food as that? I don't understand how you can stomach that garbage."

Alfred felt offended. "It's not like they have better food in England. I bet your taste buds are just ruined from eating _that_ awful food all the time."

"My food is miles above anything _you_ could make. At least I actually have a sense of cuisine."

"Jeez, stop being so defensive. I was just joking around. But seriously, there is _no_ better food than hamburgers."

"You eating that way is not going to convince me. Your dining habits are simply atrocious."

Alfred wiped off the ketchup that was dribbling down his chin and threatening to fall on his clothing. "I just have a healthy appetite is all. Besides, not all of us were raised with English manners."

The Brit's eyes narrowed. "Who told you I was from Britain, anyways?"

Whoops. "Oh, um… My friend Kiku told me," Alfred said. "Plus your accent is kinda obvious."

"Oh." He turned back to his lunch and went back to eating.

Darn it. The conversation'd been going fine, but now it looked like he wasn't going to get anything out of this guy. Alfred took another bite of his delicious hamburger. That kid was crazy for not liking these. It proved that there was something fishy about him.

* * *

Stupid Alfred. Apparently he wasn't any better at spying in this world. He'd been extremely obvious, the way he kept banging around. And he was walking in plain sight, for goodness sakes! Not bothering to hide at all!

And then he'd had the gall to insult his cooking. Well, he hadn't insulted _his_ cooking, he'd insulted English cooking in general, but he _was_ England. Maybe not in this world, but he felt insulted just the same.

At least he hadn't seen him talking to Mint. That would have been hard to explain. Even though the American probably wouldn't have been able to see her, he would have seen him talking to her. He figured that even though his world was somewhat different from his own, people probably didn't talk to themselves on a regular basis here, and that's how he would have appeared.

But why was Alfred acting all buddy-buddy with him now? It was strange. Not _bad_, or anything, just…different. Maybe even nice. He hadn't been able to talk like this with _his_ Alfred for years. But it would've been nicer if the American actually used some politeness and tact once in a while.

The conversation had turned to an awkward silence. _Oh well, it's not like I really wanted to talk to him, anyways. What does he mean by just coming up and sitting next to me like that, anyways?_ Silence was better. He would rather eat in peace than be annoyed by the American.

"So… Why'd you come to America from England, anyways?"

Arthur sighed. Well, it had been nice while it had lasted. "I would rather not talk about it."

"But why not?" Alfred whined.

"Because I said so, you bloody git. Why do you care so much, anyways?"

"Oh…um…" he trailed off.

"…yes?"

"W-why should I tell you?"

Arthur barely resisted the urge to connect his palm to his forehead. "You're the one who's prying into my life story."

Alfred looked flustered. As Arthur had thought, the American was just too much of a busybody to resist barging into other people's business. _He probably just sat next to me so he could ask me personal questions,_ he thought.

"Look, my life is my own business, so just keep yourself out of it, got it?" Arthur snapped.

"Geez, I was just curious! You don't have to freak out so much," Alfred retorted.

Arthur froze. As much as he didn't want to admit it, since it would mean the American had a point, he _was_ over-reacting. He just didn't want anybody to find out about his secret… But was that paranoia making him seem even more suspicious?

"Sorry, what was that?" Alfred asked. Arthur had muttered something under his breath.

The Brit glared at him. "I said, sorry," he said louder, annoyance clear in each syllable.

Alfred looked surprised. Arthur sighed. "Look, I just don't like talking about my life, alright?" he said.

"Alright, alright, I get it," the American grumbled. But Arthur had the feeling that he hadn't heard the last of this.

* * *

**Aaaaah. I'm so sorry for the late update, everyone! I had a big term project for English and I couldn't write _at all_ for a good week. So yeah... I'm probably not going to have this done for NaNoWriMo, at this point. Oh well, my personal goal was 30,000 words, anyways, so I'm cool with it.**

**In this chapter, I actually have more ****dialogue**! I feel like I haven't had enough actual speaking going on. Sorry about that. This is the longest in a story I've ever written, so... I'm trying to not fill it up with long paragraphs of angst, but for some reason, it's harder than it looks!

**I feel sorry for Kiku. But that scene with Yong Soo came in a flash of random inspiration, and I couldn't resist using it. Is it wrong that I enjoy doing things like this to the characters?**

**Aaaand the mind control juice. Does anybody get that reference? I applaud you if you do. It's from an awesome series.**

**I'm not sure how long until the next chapter will be out, but I'll try and have it done within a week! Sorry again that this update was so late! *bows repeatedly***


	6. The Contest, part 1

****

Oh my gosh, author notes _**before**_** the chapter for once! The world must be ending!**

**Well, I guess not, but something has ended – NaNoWriMo! Obviously, I didn't make it to 50,000 words, but I met my personal goal of 30,000 words in time, so I'm satisfied. I **_**will**_** be continuing this story, don't worry. I plan to see this through to the end, as long as I'm able to.**

**Oh yeah, and because I've only remembered this for one other chapter so far: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I do own a lovely white flag with Todd Haberkorn's autograph on it, but that's besides the point.**

**Also, from now on, I'm going to reply to all my anon reviews at the tops of the chapter. Starting with Tsu, because you're an awesome reviewer! (well, and my only anon reviewer from last chapter)**

**Tsu: You really just can't help but love Yong Soo, annoying and crazy though he is! And don't worry, there will be plenty of drama, but the kind you're thinking of won't come for a little while yet. I'm trying to make this relationship work in a realistic kind of way, more than simply a convenient love-at-first-sight kind of thing. Things like that don't make for good long stories, in my opinion. And thanks for reviewing each chapter, I love reading your reviews!**

**Alright already, here's your chapter! Hope you like my twists!**

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* * *

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Arthur sighed, certainly not for the first time that day, as he walked home from school. How on earth had he gotten himself roped into this?

That American idiot. He was just too hyper and over-imaginative. But why did he have to force Arthur into something like this?

He thought back to that day's events…

* * *

_It was right after Drama class, and he and Alfred were walking back to their lockers, which they just then realized were practically right next to each other. They hadn't realized the day before because they had left class at different times, but today, Alfred was practically stalking Arthur everywhere. And the weirdest thing was, even though he kept following right next to the Brit, Alfred was barely talking to him. It wasn't an I-hate-your-guts-so-I'm-never-going-to-talk-to-you-again type of silence, it was more of an I'm-too-busy-thinking-to-talk-to-you-right-now type of silence. Which was especially strange, considering the American's usual peppy and noisy attitude._

_At least the silence was better than their lunch conversation. Arthur had a feeling that Alfred was not going to back down so easily on finding out more about him. He really should figure out a passable background story for himself soon, but he was worried that he would not know something vital about this world and cause his story to fall to pieces. He ought to come up with something, though, at least. Maybe he would talk with Mint about it after school._

_Anyways, so he and Alfred were at their lockers. Slowly, the other teens filled their backpacks with homework and found their way out of the hallway, leaving Arthur, who was going slowly to make sure he had everything, and Alfred, who was waiting next to him, alone in the long, now-quiet hallway._

_Arthur looked up. "Do you_ have _to wait for me?" he asked, cross._

"_Well, I've been thinking…"_

_The Brit snorted. "That'd be a first."_

"_Hey, I'm plenty smart! Anyways, I'm issuing you a challenge!"_

"…_a challenge?"_

"_Yeah!"_

"_And just what kind of challenge are you talking about?"_

"_A cooking challenge!"_

_Oh please. That'd be too easy. Surely Alfred knew he would lose to his British brilliance, so what was he up to if this challenge wasn't just something to inflate his already large ego? "And what would the point be?" he asked, turning back to his locker._

"_Well, if I win, you've got to tell me why you moved here from England!"_

_Arthur whipped his head back and shot him a dangerous look. "I already told you," he said, his voice cold. "I do not wish to share my personal life with others, and quite frankly, it is not of your business."_

"_What are you afraid you'll lose?" Alfred teased._

"_O-of course not! But I'm tired of you hounding me, so just lay off already!"_

"_So then, you'll admit that American cooking is better than English cooking?"_

_Arthur stood up and hefted his backpack onto his shoulder. He glared at Alfred straight in the eye, and said "Not in a million years."_

"…_soooo?"_

"_Fine, fine, already! So what do I get when I beat you, then?"_

"_You mean if you beat me. Because I'm pretty darn confident that I can cook better than you. Um…" Obviously the American had not even thought about the possibility of losing. "I'll do your homework for a week!"_

"_For one thing, that's not nearly equivalent to what you would get, and for another, you'd probably destroy my grades before I even get a chance to build them up."_

"_Well, what do you want then?" Alfred asked, throwing his arms in the air in mock exasperation._

"_You'll stop nagging me about my past. Permanently."_

"_B-but…"_

"_That is my condition."_

"…_fine. I'll win, anyways, so it doesn't really matter to me," Alfred said, shrugging. "So does Thursday at 5 o'clock work for you?"_

"_Fine by me. Where will it be?"_

"_Kiku's house. He'll be the judge."_

"_I don't know where he lives." Arthur didn't know where anything was in this city, actually, but he wasn't going to tell him that._

"_I'll have him give you his address. You have classes together, right?"_

"_Fine." Arthur slammed his locker shut as hard as he could, and was pleasantly satisfied when Alfred flinched at the unexpected bang. "Be ready."_

_And with that, he marched out of the hall. Thankfully, the American made no move to follow him._

_

* * *

_

How could he have been so stupid? If he lost this, he'd either have to reveal everything about himself, or come up with a really good fake background story. He simply could not do the former, and he was not sure if he had enough time for the latter. The best solution he could think of at this point was just to win. Which, of course, should not be a problem for him, but if Kiku was the judge, he could not be sure which way the contest would go. From his experiences with the Kiku from his world, the Japanese man didn't like either of their cooking much. Of course, he was the one who ate raw fish on a regular basis.

Arthur would make scones, of course. That was his best recipe, after all. He should probably make a few batches when he got home, actually. Not that he thought he needed practice or anything; his cooking was perfect on a regular basis, thank you very much. He just felt like cooking at the moment.

It was good that his house had ended up close to the school. Arthur knew that he couldn't legally drive the way he was now, and he had no idea how this bloody American public transportation system worked, or even if it would work the same way as the American public transportation back in his world. He was constantly being reminded, taunted, that he hardly knew a bloody thing about his current situation.

When he reached his house, he unlocked the door and took off his shoes as he stepped inside. "Mint," he called softly, knowing that the sprite couldn't be too far behind him, though she had been surprisingly silent the whole way home.

"Arthur, why did you agree to that?" she burst out as she appeared at his shoulder.

"I don't _know_, Mint," he replied, cross. "It was a spur of the moment thing, I suppose." He walked over to his living room and sat down on the overstuffed couch.

"This isn't like you. You don't usually make such rash decisions."

"I know that. I don't know what it is, quite frankly. If that makes any sense."

"Well… I guess the most we can do now is make sure that we have a good background story for you, just in case."

"I suppose," he replied. He sat for a moment, lost in thought, then frowned as he looked at his Fay friend. "Wait a moment, you don't think I will lose, do you?"

"Er, well, that is to say…"

"My cooking is not bad! And it is certainly better than that garbage that Alfred can make!"

"Arthur, you have to remember, this Alfred is not bound by being a country. The ability of the country as a whole does not affect him."

Arthur's eyes widened. He had not thought of that. "Blast it, Mint. Why didn't you say something about that earlier?" Now he really had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

"You're the one who told me to be quiet! And who knows how Alfred would have reacted if you had forgotten about that yourself and started talking to me?"

Why did such a normally sporadic sprite such as Mint have to be so sensible at times? It was really starting to make Arthur look bad.

"And besides that," she continued, "I don't know if this Alfred really is that different. His cooking could be exactly the same either way. I just don't want you getting in over your head before you know more about this world. I mean, you've only been here for a few days!"

"Look, I know all of that. I am not pretending that I already know everything about this place. I still don't know what on earth I am doing. I suppose… I suppose I'm relying on my natural instincts more than my logic at the moment."

Silence fell between the two of them like a heavy curtain.

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeease?"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeease?"

Kiku stopped walking suddenly, causing Alfred to nearly run into him, and turned back to face him. "Alfred-san, I mean no disrespect, but I feel that you are going too far with this."

"But Kiku, I already set it up!"

"Without my permission to use my house for a competition?"

"I didn't even get a chance to tell you what the contest was yet! C'mon, you gotta at least hear me out!"

"What contest could be so important that you need my house?"

"It's a cooking contest! We need you to be the judge!"

Oh. A food contest. …this _was_ important. "I suppose I could possibly be the judge for such a contest, but that does not answer why you require my house. My parents, my older brother, and my younger sister will likely be home, and will object to such an event taking place there."

"But didn't you say they'd be gone on Thursday? Watching some boring Mahjong tournament that your brother's in?"

"Well, yes, but I was planning to—"

"So the house will be free, right? Besides, we couldn't do it at my house, cause Mattie's actually having some friends over for once, and I doubt the Brit would let it be at his house."

"If you do not mind my asking, why do you continue to call him by that?"

"What, Mattie? It's just a nickname, there's nothing wrong with it."

"No, I am asking why you do not want to call Arthur-san by his name."

Alfred looked surprised. "Huh. I didn't even realize I was doing that."

"I apologize, I simply noticed that I have not heard you call him by his name even a single time."

"Really? That's weird. Huh, maybe it's just my subconscious telling me I shouldn't call evil by its name!"

_I have a feeling that it is more because you are stubborn_, Kiku wanted to say, but he refrained from doing so. Instead, he skirted that topic and said "Arthur-san is not that bad of a person. It would not be horrible to try and be friendly with him."

"Well, if you put it that way, then wouldn't a friendly competition be a good way to welcome him to the school?" Alfred had been careful not to tell the Japanese boy about his wager.

"I suppose…" Why did Kiku always find it so hard to argue with him? That boy was too naturally charismatic for his own good. "I shall ask my family for permission to use the house, I suppose," he said, resigning himself to what appeared to be his fate regardless of what he could say to the American.

"Yes!" Alfred pumped a fist in the air. "Thanks a ton, Kiku!"

"Hai, hai," Kiku replied absentmindedly, already trying to figure out how he would convince his family to let him miss his brother Yao's tournament. He had been rather keen on going, too. Of course, he reasoned, his family would be overjoyed that he would be making a new friend.

That thought made him pause. Friend? He was surprised at himself for thinking that way, since he had only known Arthur for a couple of days. But…it did have a nice ring to it.

"Alright Kiku, I've gotta get home now. Mattie and I are going to have a zombie slaying marathon!"

"Ah, of course. I will see you tomorrow then," he said, bowing.

"See ya!" Alfred held up his hand in farewell as he turned around and jogged off to the bus stop.

_Hopefully this will not turn out too badly_, Kiku thought.

* * *

"_Bygn_," Arthur cursed, borrowing a swear word from the language of the Fay.

Mint looked up from the bowl where she had been secretly casting spells in an attempt to make the contents at least somewhat edible. "What's wrong?" she asked, flying over to the irate Brit.

"That dirty _frog_! He's ruined my best recipes!" he cried, waving a book wildly in the air.

"Arthur, Arthur! Calm down, what're you talking about?"

It turned out that Francis had apparently managed to replace nearly all of Arthur's cookbooks with his own French recipes the last time he had been in the house. Arthur didn't actually use his numerous recipes that often, preferring instead to rely on his natural cooking ability, but after he had accidently burnt three batches (it wasn't his fault, the oven must have gone faulty), Mint had insisted that he follow the written instructions this time. And when he had gone to find the book that held the recipes for his delicious scones, he had instead found only books about disgusting French food.

"As soon as I get back, I am going to _kill_ that bloody son of a—"

"Arthur!"

His eyes blazed with anger. "That bloody wanker!" He obviously was not going to calm down any time soon.

"Look, you can get other recipe books!" _Preferably ones with recipes that didn't come straight from the Middle Ages_, she thought to herself. She was actually glad that Francis had stolen the books.

"That's not the point!" he complained. "That bloody frog is always pulling stupid pranks like this!"

"But he's not _here_ right now, so what's the point in getting so mad?"

"There is a boy just like him here, so it doesn't make much of a difference," Arthur shot back, but Mint's sense got to him; his anger visibly began to subside.

"Let's find a store somewhere tomorrow and buy some more cookbooks. It'll be fine, you'll have plenty of time to practice your cooking on Wednesday."

"I was _not_ practicing, I simply felt like baking some scones," Arthur insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly. Mint was starting to feel like his personality was beginning to revert along with his body.

"Of course, of course."

* * *

"Mattie! You gotta help me!"

The boy in question looked over his book at his brother. "What do you want this time, Alfred…" He trailed off as he looked in horror at the kitchen.

"You're the cook, not me! How do you do this?" Alfred asked, sounding almost desperate.

The entire kitchen was in disarray. There were messy bowls and plates all over the counters, and bits of food were speckled around them. Matthew couldn't even tell what it was that Alfred was trying to make; there were so many different things in the bowls that he couldn't figure out how they could all be in the same dish. The blender, the mixer, and the food processer were all out, and, like everything else in the room, they were covered with food. Alfred had only been in the kitchen for half an hour or so after they had finished their zombie-slaying marathon (Matthew had gotten more points than his brother), so how had he managed to make this kind of a mess in such a short time?

"What the heck did you do in here? Mom and Dad are going to be furious!"

"I didn't mean to! I was just trying to cook something!"

"Cook what, exactly? I can't even tell what you were trying to make, and that's saying something." Although Alfred was not a very good cook and mainly relied on other people's cooking and take-out, Matthew was actually fairly good at cooking.

"Well, I was trying to make a few different things, but none of them worked out very well. Um…help?" He grinned weakly.

"You can't always rely on me for help, you know," Matthew remarked, but he agreed to assist his brother nonetheless. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long; he had been in a good spot in his book.

"You are an _amazing_ brother," Alfred said, flinging his arms around him.

"Of course I am." Matthew brushed him off. "What are you cooking for, anyways?"

"I challenged the new kid to a cooking contest!"

Matthew raised his eyebrows. "You never cook, but you challenged someone to a cooking contest?"

"But he's British!" Alfred protested. "There's no way he could be good at cooking."

"You're American," Matthew pointed out. "Americans aren't exactly world-renowned for their cooking skills in general."

"_You're_ good at cooking."

"Well, I'm technically a Canadian." It was true; their parents were both Americans, and Alfred had been born in America, but Matthew had been born in Canada during a family vacation. His mother certainly hadn't expected to go into labor nearly a month before her due date, which is why they hadn't been at home, but because of it, Matthew had ended up with dual citizenship. But he preferred to just call himself a Canadian, because let's face it, Canada was awesome.

"Same difference."

"You just wish _you_ were Canadian. So what do you think you're going to make for this contest?"

"Um… That's kinda one of the things I need help with."

"You don't even know that yet? Then why'd you start a contest?"

_Cause that guy's obviously evil and I need him to tell me his secrets._ "Kiku thinks we should try and make friends with him, and a friendly contest could help him feel more welcomed, right?" Hey, it's not like that was a lie, exactly. Everything he'd said was the truth, he just hadn't told all of it.

"That's…actually really nice of you, Alfred. What are you up to?"

But darn it, Matthew knew him too well. "Why on earth would you think I am up to something, dearest brother of mine?" he asked in the most innocent voice he could manage, which really didn't end up very innocent sounding. In fact, it even more affirmed Matthew's suspicion that he was planning something.

"You're always up to something."

"Not _always_."

"Pretty darn close, then."

Alfred pouted. "Is that anyway to talk to your favorite brother in the whole wide world?"

"You're my _only_ brother in the whole wide world."

"Oh, you know what I mean," he said, sighing exaggeratedly. "Whatever. So what do you think I should make? I'm completely out of ideas, really!"

"Well… Have you considered hamburgers?"

Alfred just stared at his brother. Then—

"Oh my gosh, Mattie, you're a freakin' genius! How did I not think of that before?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, to be honest. Wouldn't most people usually consider their favorite food first?"

"Yeah, well. Um, one more thing. How the heck do you make a hamburger from scratch?"

Matthew just gaped at his brother. He didn't even know how to cook that much? At this rate, it looked like he might not be able to get back to that book very soon after all.

* * *

The next day, Arthur still wasn't in the best of moods. That bloody frog always managed to annoy him, even if they weren't actually in the same world anymore. And it did not help that Mint had tried to be helpful and wake him up that morning. Normally, he wouldn't mind waking up to something other than the blare of his alarm clock, but when said alarm clock was bashed into the side of his head instead, it was hard to wake up nice and cheery.

Of course, Mint had apologized constantly since (she'd really just been trying to put a spell on it to play his favorite music but it had somehow backfired, she'd said), but the damage had already been done. Not much would be able to get him out of this foul mood now. In fact, it was continuing to decline. And —

"Arthur, please please please please please please please please _please_ forgive me?"

—it wasn't too hard to figure out why.

"Just drop it already," he growled.

"I'm sorry, I really really really am!"

"Mint!" he barked. It was a good thing he was still in his house; otherwise he would be drawing an awful lot of attention to himself at the moment. "Please, just leave me alone for a while! You are not being much of a help." He realized that his tone was unnecessarily harsh, but for the moment, he did not care.

"Yes, yes of course, I'm sorry!" she squeaked. She quickly flew out from the room.

Arthur sighed. It wasn't her fault, not really. He realized that much, at least. He just didn't want her around while he was feeling this way… Just in case. And maybe being alone and free of distractions would make it a little easier to calm down, at least to a manageable level. He truly hated his spontaneous temper, sometimes. And he didn't want to direct it towards the one person whom he knew and felt he could trust in this world.

But now that he thought about it, it was surprising that Mint's magic had not worked right earlier. To cause a noise-making device to emit a specific sound was by no means a complex spell, and he would fully admit that the sprite was much better at magic than him. Was something wrong with her? Or maybe something was wrong with the magic in this place in general. He recalled that his own spell had failed earlier when he had tried to unlock his bedroom door. It had taken him bloody forever to put the doorknob back on!

Was something messing with their magic here?

As Arthur thought, his eyes wandered around the room, and they eventually landed on the large grandfather clock in the corner. At first he simply traced along the intricate carvings with his sight, but then he looked further up and actually noticed the time.

"Bloody— That stupid school starts in twenty minutes!"

He jumped up from his seat and frantically searched for his backpack.

* * *

"What? Seriously?"

Alfred looked at Kiku with what appeared to be great depression as the Japanese boy explained the situation to him in the courtyard before school.

"Yes, I apologize greatly, Alfred-san."

Kiku had asked his family about using their house on Thursday, and though they were indeed pleased that he was trying to make new friends, his parents did not want him using the house while they were gone. It was not that they did not trust their son; in fact they trusted him a great deal. It was more the fact that Alfred would be there. They had many fragile items in their house, after all.

"Great, what are we going to do now?"

"Ah, my older brother did have a suggestion. You could both prepare your food beforehand and bring it to the park."

"Aw, that's not nearly as fun though."

"Regardless, it is better than you both trying to cook using the same oven and bowls and the like."

Alfred blinked in surprise. "Oh, I didn't even think about that."

If Kiku weren't so careful about his appearance, he would have hit his forehead with his palm at that sentence. "Alfred-san, please pardon me for asking, but how much thought did you put into this contest before you asked Arthur-san about it?"

"Um… Like fifteen minutes?"

"Ah, that explains a lot."

Alfred was going to ignore that. "So what park should we meet at then?"

"Perhaps Itoko Park? That is fairly well known, and close to the school. We do not know where Arthur-san lives, so something fairly central would work well."

"Alrighty then! Itoko Park at five! I'm totally gonna win this!"

Kiku had the feeling that Alfred was much more interested in winning than helping Arthur get used to a new school at all.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. "Well then, Alfred-san, I will be seeing you at break." He bowed slightly in farewell and started walking towards his Biology classroom.

"See ya later, Kiku!" Alfred waved as he went off to his own first period class.

* * *

Arthur barely made it to Biology before the bell rang and cursed yet again that bloody spell that had forced him to become a student. He was not used to this kind of a schedule yet! He felt that someone like Ludwig would have a much better time fitting in at a place like this, the way he was always so obsessed with schedules. At least the teacher didn't appear to be there yet.

As he came in the classroom, Arthur took his already regular seat next to Kiku. "Good morning, Kiku," he said. Even if he was in a bad mood, that was no reason not to be polite to somebody who was uninvolved.

"Ah, good morning to you as well, Arthur-san."

"Oh, that's right," Arthur said, remembering something. "Alfred said you would give me your address for that bloody contest of his?"

"Yes, well, he, ah, decided to change where it will be at, for convenience's sake."

"He didn't ask you beforehand if your house would work, did he." Arthur didn't say it as a question, but as a statement.

Kiku was surprised. Arthur caught on quickly. It was certainly a nice change from having to explain everything like he had to do with Alfred all of the time.

"Well, no, but we agreed that the park would work fine. However, Alfred-san told me to tell you that you would need to cook your food beforehand, as parks tend not to have well-equipped kitchens."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected such dry humor from the usually serious looking boy. "That's fine by me. What park?"

"Itoko Park. It is nearby this school. I assumed that you would still be new to the area, and I am not sure where your house is, so I took the liberty of choosing a place that will hopefully be somewhat nearby for you." Kiku handed the Brit a piece of paper with a map of the area around the school printed on it.

"Oh… Thank you for that."

Kiku bowed in response, though he was still in his chair. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something more, but the teacher chose that time to suddenly rush into the classroom.

"Sorry I'm late, class," he said as the noise from the students died down. "There was a teacher's meeting this morning, and it ran a bit long."

Kiku quickly closed his mouth and turned toward the teacher, blushing slightly for some unknown reason. Arthur figured he just didn't want to get in trouble with the teacher, so he turned toward the front of the classroom himself. They would have plenty of time to chat later, after all.

He absentmindedly noticed that Mint was not in the classroom. He prayed she was not getting into trouble, then directed his attention back to the teacher.

* * *

Mint had chosen to stay at home that day, actually. There were some things that she needed to test out, and since Arthur wouldn't be home for a few hours, this was the perfect time to try.

For one thing, she was very confused as to why her spell hadn't worked that morning. It was a pretty simple spell, but it had ended up completely wrong. How had a spell to make sound turned into a spell for movement? The two types were nothing alike, so she couldn't have accidently switched them or anything, not without noticing quickly.

Poor Arthur. She really was sorry, even if she had no idea how it'd happened.

But at the very least, she could run some tests. She'd managed to bring the alarm clock down to the living room, heavy to her as it was. She supposed she could have tested it in the room it was already in, or used something that was already downstairs, but she didn't want to wreck Arthur's bedroom while he was away, and she figured it was best to test the exact thing her magic had failed on.

No, no! She didn't fail. She was _sure_ that she had cast the spell right. There was something fishy going on here. And she didn't just mean the lingering smell of the fish scones that Arthur had attempted to bake the night before.

…don't ask. She didn't know why either.

She put the alarm clock in the middle of the room, and prepared the spell that she had used that morning. Just like before, it instantly shot forward a few feet, and instead of music, it emitted a sort of screeching noise that made Mint clamp her hands over her ears and spew a string of curses in her native language.

Just what was causing this? She couldn't feel any anti-magic buffers around, and she'd double-checked her spell just now to make sure it was the right one. Was this another result of that spell that Arthur had cast? Even though she knew a considerable lot more about it than Arthur did himself, even the Fay did not know everything this spell did. It wasn't used often, and it was tricky to get out of.

Well, she'd just have to keep trying and experimenting to try to figure out just what was going on. She couldn't stand mysteries, and she felt like this one was taunting her in the face.

"Mystery, you are going _down_," she muttered to herself, and prepared to cast the spell again.

* * *

"Is he gone?" Kiku asked, his anxiety slipping out through his voice as he tried to catch his breath.

"Relax, dude," Alfred said, trying to calm his friend. "I'm pretty sure we lost him. Besides, he'll probably never find us here in the library. I bet he doesn't even know this school has one!"

Hetalia Academy actually had quite a large library. Sadly, there were surprisingly few students who actually used it.

Kiku frowned. "Alfred-san, you may not believe it, but Yong Soo does read for pleasure every now or then."

"For _pleasure_, right," the American said, snorting and causing Kiku to blush.

"W-well, anyways, I am glad that he did not see us come in here, at least. He chases me so often," he said sadly. "But I was hoping that he would not start it at school so early this year."

"The kid's a nut job. Just get a restraining order."

"Alfred-san!" Kiku was shocked. "I could not do such a thing against my own cousin!"

"You're way too attached to your family bonds. Anyways," Alfred quickly changed the subject before Kiku had a chance to retaliate. "So did you tell the Brit about the change in location?"

"Y-yes, of course. But I do not understand why you did not want to tell him yourself. You said that you two have lunch and two periods together, am I right?"

"Yeah, but the sooner the better, right? Besides, I'd probably forget," he admitted.

The American certainly did have a spastic memory, Kiku agreed. "That does make sense, I suppose."

"Of course it does. I'm the hero, so everything I do makes sense!"

_Not most of the time_, Kiku thought to himself. "Ah, break is nearly over. I do not think that Yong Soo will try anything more for the moment, but all the same, I had best be going."

"Alrighty! Good luck in class!" Alfred watched as Kiku walked out through the library doors.

…and as he was immediately tackled by a certain blue and white wearing Korean.

Seriously, did that guy have a homing device installed in him or something? Quite honestly, at this point he wouldn't be surprised.

Oh well. He should probably try and rescue Kiku. Since he was the hero and all. He just hoped that Yong Soo wouldn't try anything on him as well.

* * *

Arthur felt better, but he still wasn't in the greatest of moods. Because for some reason, Alfred, the great bloody git that he was, felt for some reason that the two of them needed to sit together at lunch. Again.

And not only that, but he had called his friends over to sit with them as well. Namely, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Elizabeta.

So instead of eating his delicious meal (he'd decided to bring a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich that day, one of his favorites) alone and in peace like he had hoped to do, he was surrounded with chatter about some of the most random and somewhat obnoxious things. He really wasn't interested in how Gilbert gave his beloved bird a bath the night before (no, he was _not_ smiling at the boy's overly dramatic retelling of the story), or how Elizabeta had found a very…_interesting_ set of videos on the internet recently. Interesting as in he wanted to make sure that he never saw them. Ever.

So you can wonder why the Brit wasn't exactly overjoyed to eat along with such lovely company. Some of whom had some of the worst table manners he had ever seen. At least Ludwig seemed saner than the rest.

Nostalgia suddenly took hold of him, or perhaps it was more like a case of home-sickness. Everybody in this world was so much like their counter-parts in his own world. If it weren't for the few details here and there, he would be convinced that these really were the same people, and somehow this whole thing was just some sort of intricate practical joke. This really was a spell to start things anew, he mused, tuning out the dunces next to him for a moment. But it just wasn't _real_. If only he could return home…

He shook his head. No, he had already decided that he would live along with this world for as long as it took for him to get back to his real world. This wasn't his real life, he wouldn't forget that. He couldn't forget that. But it was his life for now, and he would be foolish to mess up this chance.

Alfred noticed his abrupt movement. "Hey, you alright?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine."

And, as he thought about it, he found he truly was.

* * *

**Woo! Long chapter is long!**

**A couple notes: that part about why Matthew's Canadian while his brother is American? That's actually possible. My dad was born to American parents while they were living in Canada for a few years, so he got dual citizenship. Which passed down to me, too, which is totally awesome.**

**Also, Arthur's lunch: this one was based on my mom. She actually loves peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. I figure it's her British heritage showing through, so I decided that Arthur would enjoy them as well.**

**Please review, everyone! Reviews are love! Review, and I **_**won't**_** make you eat Arthur's fish scones!**


	7. The Contest, part 2

**Ah, I'm so sorry this so short! Originally, I was going to have this chapter and the previous chapter be one, but it was getting really long, and I wanted to post something already, so I cut it off at what I thought was the best spot. So yeah, this chapter is shorter than average. It's still longer than the first chapter, though! And later chapters will be long, don't worry!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. But I do own a pair of lucky cats! So cute!**

**Alright, time to reply to anonymous reviews!**

**anon:**

**Arthur makes me daww a lot too. He's just so clueless sometimes, but it makes him so cute! And don't worry, you'll find out what happens to Kiku in this chapter~!**

**Tsu:**

**Ah! Thanks for such a long review, it made me so happy! Canada **_**is**_** awesome. He's so underappreciated, don't you think? And Arthur's kinda childish in general, he just tries to hide it by acting like a gentleman. I don't particularly like French food either, but hey, at least it'd be edible, right? I hope I'm not foreshadowing too heavily… Especially since I haven't fully worked out for myself what's going to happen in later chapters… But it'll all work out somehow! And don't worry, your English is great! Thanks again for the great reviews! ^.^**

**Igi-tan:**

**I thought about stealing your idea…but even if you added food coloring to the meat, it wouldn't really look any different. Oh well. And Arthur could never just buy food and pass it for his own! For one, proper gentlemen do not cheat. And besides that, there is nothing wrong with his cooking! It's perfectly fine! Shut up!**

**Bexx:**

**Aw, thanks! I'm glad you like it!**

**Thanks for the support, everyone! Now onto the story!**

* * *

"Mattie! Matt! Dearest brother of mine who I love ever so much!"

The boy in question groaned. "Alfred, don't tell me you need help _again_."

"Um…kinda?" the older brother said, looking sheepish. "I just don't get how you cook this!"

"Well for one thing, you're not supposed to add relish to the meat before you cook it," Matthew remarked.

"But wouldn't that be convenient? I mean, that way you wouldn't have to put it on later!"

"Not really. It'd just ruin the patty and probably make it taste pretty weird."

"But the recipe you gave me is so boring! I want to spice it up a bit somehow!"

"Then why don't you actually add some spices or something?"

"…huh?"

Geez, why was his brother so dense? "Add some spices to the meat. It's not that hard."

"But _what_ spices? Mattie, you're the cook, I don't know any of this!"

"Oh, I don't know! It's not like I cook hamburgers on a regular basis or anything! Try some paprika or some coriander or something."

"Those sound like diseases."

"Alfred, those are fairly commonly known spices."

"…I knew that."

Matthew swore to himself that he would never try to get Alfred to help in the kitchen. He'd need so much help that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

* * *

Arthur wasn't having much more luck with his scones, not that he'd admit it. He'd gotten a recipe book on the way home so that he would not have to deal with Mint's nagging, but…

He found himself constantly disagreeing with the book. Whoever had wrote this obviously could learn a thing or two about making proper British scones.

"Cream of Tartar," he read. "What on earth is that? I've never used anything like that before. Do they mean that creamy stuff in tartar sauce? I certainly can't think of anything else it could be. I suppose it's worth a shot. Mint certainly seemed to think that following a recipe would be good."

Luckily, Arthur always had a good supply of tartar sauce on hand, seeing as it went so well with the fish and chips he often had. He poured some into a bowl and separated all the little chunks of pickles and other such things from the "cream" of it.

"Alright, it looks as if I've got all the other ingredients. Everything else looks more normal of things to put into scones."

He read the next line. "Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. That seems a lot hotter than I usually have my oven at. And bugger, this oven doesn't even go that high! I suppose I'll just turn it as high as it goes, then." Arthur had somehow failed to notice that the recipe meant 425 degrees in Fahrenheit, not in the Celsius scale that he was used to.

Time for the next step. "Sift the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt into a bowl. Hm, the tartar does not seem to want to sift very well. Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to use a mixer then. Wait, no, I'd forgotten that was dirty. I guess it can't be helped; I'll use the blender." Sadly, he then forgot to put the lid on the blender, and bits of the mixture flew everywhere.

"I'll just have to clean that up when I am done, no big damage done. Alright, this looks fairly well mixed no, so next step. Rub in the butter until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs? That sounds like nonsense. Why would you want the scones to be in little tiny pieces? I'll just have to add extra butter so that it all sticks together well like it's supposed to."

He was going to need a lot more butter. "Mint—" he started to call, but then he remembered where she was. When Arthur had gotten home from school, he had found her, after some searching, curled up in the very corner of the couch in the living room and fast asleep. He did not want to disturb her now, so he decided to be as quiet as possible.

He wondered what she had been doing that would have taken so much energy out of her. The energetic sprite usually had plenty of energy for the day, and then some. She must have been doing something with magic, he figured, though he wasn't quite sure what. That was the only thing he knew of that could tire her out so easily.

Arthur chuckled. The little sprite looked an awful lot cuter when she was asleep than awake. She was a lot quieter, for one. Though he was curious, he decided he could wait until Mint woke up to ask her what she had been doing. But for now, she looked like she deserved some sleep.

Besides, he had a scone recipe to get back to!

* * *

The next day at school, it almost seemed like Alfred was avoiding Arthur, much to the Brit's surprise. But he just assumed that the American was excited about the stupid cooking contest that was going on that evening. He always did get overly excited about the most random things. Well, his Alfred back in his world did, anyways. Arthur still wasn't quite sure just how similar or different the two of them were.

He certainly was not looking forward to this random contest that Alfred had created. It may have been obvious that he was going to be the winner, but it was still taking up too much of his precious time. Instead of cooking (_not_ practicing) scones, he could have been working on a way to get out of this world and back into his own.

He could always back out, he supposed. But by this point, his pride wouldn't let him. And besides that, he had to admit, it was rather…nice to be able to do something like this with Alfred again. This Alfred certainly seemed to have a better head on his shoulders when it involved dealing with other people. If only there wasn't that stupid wager he had insisted on…

Arthur froze. He'd forgotten all about the bloody wager! Not that he'd lose or anything, but he still needed to work on a background story for himself. Where did he come from, why was he here now, what were his parents like; the typical things he could be expected to answer. Anything about having parents would be hard to make convincing for the long period of time that he would need his story to work for. Perhaps he would just plain say that he had no family of his own. Right, like that would help him attract less attention. Alfred would probably pounce on something like that right away.

"I suppose Mint's help would come in handy with this," he murmured to himself, barely speaking out loud.

Sadly, Alfred still managed to hear him somehow. "Huh? Who's Mint?" he asked through a bite of hamburger. It was lunchtime, and though the American had stayed away from Arthur the whole day so far, he had still decided to plop down next to him at his lunch table once again. But luckily, today the others were once more sitting at their own table a little ways away.

No, he did _not_ feel a little upset seeing that they apparently didn't want to sit with him for a second time. He was perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much. And no, Alfred did not count. Arthur was simply stuck with him, was all. It wasn't his fault.

"Mint's just…a friend of mine."

"Hm. Mint's a cute name. Maybe you could, y'know, introduce us sometime." Alfred said, grinning.

Oh for goodness sakes. Alfred wasn't actually considering hitting on a three-inch tall sprite, was he? Granted, he probably didn't even know that sprites existed, much less that Mint was one herself, but still! The very idea! "I highly doubt you could spark anything with her," he said carefully, chuckling a little to himself.

"Hey, you never know!" he protested. "I'm pretty popular with the ladies, you know!"

"I'm sure you are." Arthur rolled his eyes and took another bite of the pot roast he had brought for his lunch. By the Queen, there were not many dishes better than pot roast, even when it was leftover.

"Whatever. Anyways," Alfred said as he leaned closer across the table, his voice going quieter (for him). "You haven't forgotten about our wager, have you?"

Arthur glared at him. "O-obviously," he bluffed. He _had_ hoped there was a slim chance that it would have slipped Alfred's mind, however. He was not looking forward to this. Well, he'd just have to win. Then the American would finally stop hounding him constantly for his story. At least, he hoped he would actually stop for good.

* * *

Alfred wasn't sure why he was sitting next to the new kid at lunch all the time now. He didn't even like the guy. After all, he was rude, he didn't want to tell anyone about his family of all things, and besides all that, right now he was Alfred's rival! Oh, he was excited. This evening, he was going to make the Brit spill all his evil plots and things! He'd be the ultimate hero! Hero Alfred F. Jones, savior of the school! Yeah, that'd be awesome.

He'd been avoiding him all day. He hadn't even spoken to him once, which was something he'd been particularly proud of He'd come into the lunchroom with all intensions of sitting with his friends Gilbert, Elizabeta, and Ludwig, but somehow he'd ended up going over to the Brit's table instead. Why?

_He looked lonely_, a voice inside him said, but he pushed that aside. Why would he care if his rival looked lonely? But somehow, he just couldn't find it in him to leave the table.

Oh, who cared. It wasn't like the Brit was going turn him evil from the two of them just sitting next to each other or anything. And besides, if he acted friendly, the Brit might open up to him and spill his devious secrets anyways! Ha! Alfred gave himself a mental pat on the back for his quick thinking and reasoning skills.

He slurped his soda, sneaking a quick glance at the kid from over the rim of his cup. Well… Y'know, maybe Kiku had a point. The guy wasn't all that bad… He hadn't even brought up that first day when they had embarrassingly run into each other _twice_. A lot of people Alfred knew wouldn't think twice about holding that over somebody, especially if said somebody was someone with a "coolness" reputation like he had. And even if he was kinda rude, it wasn't like he was violent or had an overly dirty mouth or anything. Oh, he was definitely hiding something, something big, and Alfred was determined to find it out. But once the threat of evilness was over (with either Arthur not hiding anything that big or with the hero managing to get him to reform, Alfred preferring the latter), then maybe, oh, he didn't know, they could…hang out sometime or something? With Kiku, of course.

When Alfred would look back, he'd say that he didn't really know when Operation: Get Evilness Out Of The School became honest interest in having Arthur as a friend. Maybe it was at this point, maybe it was later, or maybe it had started even earlier, back when he'd seen those intense emerald eyes come at him from around the corner in the courtyard. But one thing was for certain: though Alfred would grudgingly admit his budding feelings of companionship for Arthur, the Brit was going to take a lot more convincing before he would give in.

* * *

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Arthur asked impatiently.

Kiku looked uncertain. "A-are you sure, Arthur-san?"

"What? It's not like it's poison or anything."

The Japanese boy wasn't so sure, and neither was the American one. "You sure about that?" Alfred asked, crinkling up his nose in disgust. "Even _I_ wouldn't eat that, and I've eaten some pretty weird things in my time."

"It's fine!" Arthur snapped. "It just looks a little off in this lighting, is all."

"Right… If by 'a little off,' you mean it looks like something barfed on it."

"It's a nut and berry glaze!" the Brit exclaimed, exasperated. "And it's not my fault I grabbed the wrong food coloring bottle. I thought I had red, but I put yellow in with the blue instead. It was a simple mistake, it could have happened to anybody!"

"Please, stop your fighting!" Kiku cried in his usual soft voice. "Alfred-san, I tried yours, ah, interesting as it was, so it is only fair that I try Arthur-san's as well." But he really, truly did not want to. This just screamed food poisoning. But a food contest was a food contest, and Kiku took his food very, _very_ seriously.

Steeling himself, he looked again at the dish that Arthur had brought. At least Alfred had brought something normal; he had brought hamburgers, ones that tasted odd, probably from some strange spices that he had decided to put on, but at least they looked normal and had been edible. This, on the other hand… This looked like an explosion on a plate. Kiku was fairly sure that they were supposed to be scones, but they were not like any scones that he had seen before. They looked like they had been dipped in a radioactive vat.

The scones themselves were rather colorless, and they resembled slabs of grey-toned mush that had solidified in the rough shape of a normal triangular scone. To help brighten them up, Arthur had added a glaze on top. But for some reason, apparently because he'd managed to mix red and yellow up, the glaze was a putrid green instead of a purple that would have gone at least somewhat well with the berries and nuts that were mixed in. Wait… Kiku leaned closer, inspecting the mix.

"Ah, Arthur-san, exactly what kind of nuts do you have here?" They didn't seem like any kind that he had seen before.

Ignoring Alfred's stiffed giggling (immature git, that's what he was), Arthur said "Oh, those are horse chestnuts. Chestnuts are perfectly fine to cook with, aren't they?"

Kiku blanched. Did Arthur not realize that horse chestnuts were not edible? He suddenly feared slightly for his life. But he took his duties very seriously, and right now, his duty was to judge this contest. _Here goes nothing, I suppose_, he thought nervously. He raised the scone to his mouth and took a miniscule bite, being _very_ careful to avoid the inedible chestnuts.

He had not even swallowed his bite when the taste started to make him feel nauseous. The scone texture was gummy, the scone flavor bland yet strangely spiced, and the glaze was overpoweringly tangy. Perhaps separated, the scone and glaze could possibly be somewhat edible, but as they were combined, the result was unfit for human consumption.

Pretending to cough slightly, Kiku managed to spit the mouthful of scone into the napkin that he had been holding. It was obvious to him that Arthur could not possibly be named the victor. At least Alfred's hamburgers had been perfectly edible.

But there were other factors weighing on him. He knew Alfred, and he had the feeling that he had made some sort of bet with Arthur, even though the American had not mentioned a word about such a thing. So if he declared Alfred the winner, than Arthur would likely be in a troublesome position. He rather did want to be friends with the Brit, and putting him at Alfred's mercy would not be a good thing to do. Putting anybody at Alfred's mercy was not good, of course, but especially not somebody whom he hoped to call a friend.

But no, as much as he yearned to, he simply could not give an unjust ruling. His pride and honor would not let him. He looked over at the two boys who were staring at him in anticipation. Arthur looked calm and collected, like he was sure he would win. Alfred just looked antsy, impatient as ever.

Kiku sighed. He would probably regret this later, but…

"I declare the winner to be…"

"Yes?" Alfred asked, eyes shining with excitement. He bounced on his heels, as if preparing to jump in victory.

"Yes?" Arthur asked at the same time as the American. He crossed his arms, a smug smile already starting to form on his face.

"…Alfred." Kiku finished, looking down quickly.

Arthur's jaw dropped so dramatically that it was almost audible. Alfred jumped far into the air, and he fist pumped as he cried "_YES_! What now, Brit boy? And you know what comes next!"

Arthur quickly closed his mouth, and a worried expression settled on his face. Oh dear. What _was_ he going to do now?

* * *

**Oh, poor Arthur! How on earth could he have lost?**

**And yes, I did have too much fun writing about how weird his scones ended up. I enjoy the randomest things…**

**Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I'm going to be taking a bit of a break from this, because there's a bunny that's been rolling around in my head for a while now, and I want to write it! It'll be a Christmas-themed collection of oneshots with various pairing. The title is **_**Advent Calendar**_**, and I'm going to try to have the first chapter up on Thursday, so look out for it! I dunno how many chapters it will have, it'll depend on the reception it gets.**

**But in the meantime, please review this story! It needs some review love! And I have another of Arthur's recipes to threaten you with again in case you don't want to! Haha!**


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